First Love, Last Love
by dstrekharrylover
Summary: Spock and Christine finally marry, but she dies of a rare disease shortly after a daughter is born to them, hitting him hard, but a few months later he meets a half Vulcan woman who becomes his new love. Character Death.


**First Love, Last Love**  
**By J.M. Lane**

The crew of the starship _Enterprise_ was in an uproar of late...and with good reason. Spock, their second-in-command and Science Officer, was getting married. And not to just anyone, but to the one woman who had loved him devotedly and unselfishly from a distance these many years--Dr. Christine Chapel. Nyota Uhura, Communications Chief, was Christine's closest friend and had naturally been chosen to be her bridesmaid.

Only Uhura knew the full extent and duration of her friend's feelings for the Vulcan. She had spent many late nights sitting up with Chris and commiserating with her,  
both sympathizing and empathizing at the seeming futility of the other woman's star- crossed love. But knowing Christine as she did, the Bantu woman knew that her friend was not one to give up. She would either win Spock or die trying--and she had. Won him, that is.

Spock, on the other hand, had definitely not started out loving her. In fact, he had instead gone out of his way to avoid her for many years, only being around her when he couldn't get out of it. He had felt a mixture of discomfort, surprise and embarrassment in her presence...embarrassment at the intensity of her feelings. His change of heart had been a long time coming, and it had not been easy--especially for such a logical being. Now that he and Christine were together, however, and as far as both were concerned, the wait had been well worth it. Even so, Spock had never been a demonstrative person, particularly in public. The furthest he would go was a surreptitious smile and finger-crossing.

Of course, behind the closed doors of their private quarters was another matter. Uhura had not been surprised at the first revelation, but at the second, her large brown eyes grew even larger...so much so that Christine was unable to keep from laughing.

"Since when is that so surprising? I've always known it," the female physician reminded her friend. "Hell, not even Spock can be a machine one hundred percent  
of the time!"

Uhura shrugged sheepishly. "I guess I'm too used to his logical facade. One thing's for sure, though--he's a consummate actor!"

"Tell me about it," Christine agreed. She chuckled before lapsing into a Christmas-morning smile at the thought of the tenderly passionate night she and Spock had spent together--their first as actual lovers. Up to this point, the only lovemaking between them had been in Christine's dreams and fantasies. Even so, she had discovered to her delight that the reality had not only equaled but surpassed every fantasy she had ever had.

"I had no idea Spock knew so much about lovemaking," she marveled. "I thought I would have to teach _him_, but he ended up teaching _me_!"

This time it was Uhura who laughed. "For Heaven's sake, Chris, what do you think the man's been doing all these years, resting on his laurels? You know his insatiable curiosity and appetite for knowledge."

"But whoever dreamed he would be so interested in lovemaking techniques?" Christine's tone was incredulous.

"Probably his Human half manifesting itself," Uhura observed. "Of course, there's always the possibility that the Captain's been giving him pointers." She gave Christine a sly wink. "Which reminds me..." Her voice trailed off. "Where are you going on your honeymoon?"

"Spock was considering going to Vulcan and staying with his parents. Unfortunately, Fleet brass just informed him that neither of us can be spared at this time. We ended up compromising and agreed to share his shipboard quarters instead. The Captain suggested the VIP quarters, but I sensed that Spock would feel most comfortable in his own." Christine smiled at the thought of her future husband. "Of course, it doesn't make any difference to me where we are as long as we're alone together."

Uhura smiled and nodded understandingly. At that moment, the door buzzer sounded. "Come," Christine said.

Leonard McCoy stuck his head around the petition, giving a wolf whistle upon seeing the women in their wedding finery. "Lord, if you two aren't a sight for sore eyes! I declare, I've never seen two prettier things in my life!" The Captain was officiating at the Federation ceremony, so Spock asked his second-best friend to be best man. McCoy jumped at the chance. "Just wait till I tell Spock!" he teased.

Both women smiled in the Doctor's direction. "It's time," Bones continued. "Let's go, ladies. We're keeping everybody waiting--especially Spock. I swear, I've never seen any fella more anxious to get married!" McCoy winked in Christine's direction, prompting her to give him a playful poke in the ribs as the three left her quarters, Uhura on their heels.

Spock had never been a party person, so the others kept the reception brief in deference to him. Even the ceremony itself had been private, with only the couple's closest friends in attendance. The Vulcan would have been uncomfortable with any more people around, especially since he had agreed to kiss Christine at the ceremony... and he had never kissed her in public before. He had endured the reception in deference to his new wife and their friends, even though he privately considered it an unnecessary emotional display. However, he knew that Humans had an emotional need for some kind of celebration.

They wouldn't consider that they had given him and Christine a proper send-off otherwise. It was only after toasts, shaking of hands, hugs and kisses all around that they were at last sent on their way to his quarters--their "honeymoon suite" for the duration. It was unbelievable to Christine that she would feel so different now that Spock was her husband as well as bondmate and lover. She couldn't have said exactly how her feelings had changed; she only knew that they had changed. Whatever the case, every dream she had ever dreamed had come true, culminating in this moment...the moment that she and Spock became husband and wife.

The one thing which would make their love complete was a child--a child who looked like Spock. Velvety brown eyes, upswept brows and elegant ears. Not to mention cupid's-bow lips. She wanted to start right away, but Spock vetoed the idea...even though he loved her all the more for her desire to bear him a child to carry on his name. Even so, he wanted to have her all to himself as long as possible. There was still time for that, he pointed out. Even as much as Christine wanted Spock's child, she had to concede his point. She admitted that she, too, wanted him all to herself as long as possible. She had waited far too long for him to belong to her as it was.

As a result, she intended to share him with no one, not even their child, until they both agreed that enough time had passed. Once the time came, however, they would work diligently to become parents. Of course, even failed attempts would be extremely enjoyable.

After three months of marriage, the couple decided that enough time had passed and that they wanted to try for a child. After a long heart-to-heart talk, Spock and his wife sat down with McCoy to discuss the ramifications of a Human pregnancy where the father was a Vulcan. The Chief Surgeon admitted that successful pregnancies between the two races _were_ possible. Spock wouldn't have been here otherwise. At the same time, the fact of his dual heritage might well complicate matters rather than simplify them.

But Christine, newly a bride and deeply in love with her husband, momentarily brushed aside the possible risks. She wanted to bear Spock a child and was willing to take any chance if it meant being a mother. She was as much a medical professional as McCoy, so she knew what she was getting into. Spock also had his mother write her and explain what a Human pregnancy by a Vulcan involved.

Of course, there were bound to be differences which would have to be taken into consideration because of Spock's background. He and Christine agreed that they would cross that bridge when they came to it. It might take time--several months, perhaps--but Christine didn't care how long it took if it meant bearing Spock a child. Even so, she would have to be carefully monitored for the duration of her pregnancy. She wasn't sure who would be the biggest mother hen once she did become pregnant...Spock or Leonard. Of course, she also told herself that she could live with their fussing, babying, and general mollycoddling if it meant having a healthy child.

Sooner than either Christine or Spock could have imagined possible--within a month  
--their wish was granted. You couldn't have found a happier pair of expectant parents anywhere. McCoy hugged the stuffing out of Christine after diagnosing her pregnancy. In addition, she laughed at the look on Spock's face when the Doctor offered him a cigar in celebration of his upcoming fatherhood.

Not even the Doctor's explanation that it was a Human tradition changed the Vulcan's expression one bit...even when he was assured that he only had to accept it, not smoke it. Of all the unfathomable ways of Humans, this had to be the worst. The outcome of Christine's pregnancy would not be affected, nor was it necessary to wish an expectant father well on his coming child by encouraging him to accept such an item. Surely there was a more logical way to congratulate a father-to-be than this...

It took a detailed explanation from Christine for Spock to realize that the Doctor had meant well, he had simply gone about it the wrong way. For that reason, Spock appreciated the sentiment behind the action, even as much as he disliked the action itself. Even so, he much preferred Jim and Uhura's manner of con- gratulations--a pat on the back or kiss on the cheek, accompanied by a sincere "Congratulations." Of course, he wouldn't hurt McCoy's feelings by saying so, but fervently hoped he would never have to endure such an incident again.

As Christine's pregnancy progressed, the overjoyed parents-to-be made excited preparations for their coming child. McCoy had known the child's gender from the start, but Christine said she preferred to wait until the birth to find out. However, she was secretly hoping for a boy, a son who would be the image of his father. Spock, on the other hand, preferred to know the gender of his coming child. He had asked his wife, but she told him to ask McCoy. He learned that it was to be a girl, which he was hoping for. They had agreed to give their child--whether boy or girl--one Vulcan and one Human name in keeping with their dual heritage. So far they had only decided on a name for a girl: T'Mara Elizabeth. They were still debating on one for a boy.

When Christine was six months pregnant, Uhura gave her a baby shower. She invited all their friends and acquaintances who either had children or young nieces and nephews. At first the guests were unsure what kind of present to bring; Uhura told them whatever they considered appropriate for a baby would be fine.

Everyone hugged, kissed, and congratulated a radiant Christine as she sat in a comfortable chair in the living room of the D Deck quarters she shared with Spock. The others exchanged anecdotes about their children or young relatives, how they and their mates or siblings had reacted to a given situation. They even asked how Spock was taking it. Christine said he was pleased at being an expectant father and was spoiling her rotten, almost literally waiting on her hand and foot.

Most found it hard to believe that a Vulcan could act like that, but Christine let it wash over her. Let them think what they liked; she knew better. As for Spock, Uhura had asked the Captain to engage him in a few games of 3-D chess in order to keep him busy for a few hours--even let him win one or two. Even as good as the Vulcan was, Kirk could beat him when he put his mind to it.

Uhura was certain that the shower would be over by 2200, but took no chances. She had arranged for McCoy to call and tell Christine it was time for her to go to bed, because she was approaching a critical point in her pregnancy and needed all the rest and sleep she could get. The Doctor called on schedule; Uhura began to diplomatically dismiss everyone after bidding them goodbye and letting them congratulate Christine again. By 2230 everyone was gone; Uhura helped her expectant friend prepare for bed and get settled, then called Kirk and told him the coast was clear--Spock could come back whenever he liked. The Captain told her that Spock was putting the 3-D set away and would be arriving shortly.

The Bantu quietly slipped out, chuckling as she envisioned the look on Spock's face when he saw all the baby stuff upon entering the quarters he shared with his wife. It had no doubt been difficult to keep Spock's mind on the game, so concerned was the Vulcan about his wife and child. Of course, the Captain was a pretty persuasive person, so Uhura was sure he'd figured a way to keep Spock busy without too much trouble.

She also made sure to remind Christine that she wanted to be the baby-sitter of choice should one be needed in the foreseeable future. Christine had agreed readily--mostly to pacify her, Uhura suspected, since the latter knew that her friend was tired and wanted her to leave so Spock would return and they could go to bed.

The Vulcan automatically headed for the sleeping alcove upon arrival to check on his pregnant wife. He was relieved to find her asleep. She sighed happily as he leaned down to softly kiss her lips, then snuggled deeper into the warmth of their bed. He told the lights to go out after undressing, leaving only the flame-pot burning. He then slid into bed beside Christine, drawing her close to him and pressing her head down to rest on his shoulder. His cheek rested on the silky cap of her hair.

Spock allowed himself a smile as he felt her rhythmic breathing and smelled the rosy-musk fragrance emanating from her before kissing her hair and letting himself fall asleep as he felt the movements of their unborn child against his side. It was only here, in the privacy of his bedchamber with the one woman he loved most in the universe (aside from his mother, Amanda) snuggled close to him, that Spock knew he could not have asked more from life even if he lived five hundred years. He was so totally, completely happy. No, not totally. That would happen when their daughter was born in two point six-two months.

It seemed that Spock and Christine had hardly turned around before it was time for the baby. She had insisted on working, declaring that she would climb the walls with nothing to do all day. Nothing Spock or McCoy said dissuaded her. For the first few months, she was allowed to work her regular shifts--but after that, McCoy put his foot down. Now that her pregnancy was further advanced, the Doctor insisted that she had to do Sickbay paperwork in her and Spock's quarters, on the computer she shared with her husband. Spock backed him to the hilt. She was taking enough risks as it was.

It was either that, McCoy said, or he would slap her into a Sickbay bed so fast it would make her head spin. Christine sighed in resignation, knowing that Leonard would indeed make good on his threat if she tried to defy him. She had seen it too often in the past not to believe. The Vulcan was quite an indulgent husband, allowing his wife leave to do pretty much as she pleased--up to a point. Even Spock's loose reins had their limits. He was not about to allow her to take unnecessary risks with her health or that of their child, no matter what her objections.

In this instance, Christine learned to her dismay that there was no budging Spock from his stand. He and Leonard rarely agreed, but this was one time the two were of one mind--united in their mutual love and concern for her health, as well as that of the unborn child she carried. It was in the middle of some of the aforementioned paperwork that labor pains began. She dropped what she was doing and held her large belly protectively as she began to feel pain and pressure in her lower body. Christine instinctively reached out for her husband with her mind as she grabbed hold of the desk and pulled herself to her feet; somehow she managed to reach the bed and position herself properly between pains before her water broke.

Spock entered the quarters moments later, making a beeline for the sleeping alcove where his wife reposed in a semi-reclining position, pillows propped up behind her. Her legs were slightly apart, bare feet resting on the bed. Her hands clutched at the towel-covered bedspread as she winced and moved restlessly with every pain, pushing whenever she felt pressure. She sensed Spock's presence before seeing him, looking up and smiling at her husband through the pain.

_Spock...the baby...it's coming... _

His long, slender fingers found the nerve points on her face; within seconds he had joined his mind to hers in a healing meld. _I know, beloved. I felt your pain. It will be all right; do not be concerned. Do you think you could make it to Sickbay? I believe we are going to need Dr. McCoy. _

_I don't think so. The pains are coming pretty close together. You'd better have him come here. _

_Very well._ Spock reached to open the bedside intercom with his free hand, wincing at the pain he felt from Christine whenever she bore down.

"Sickbay. McCoy here," came the prompt reply. "Spock, is something wrong?" the Doctor asked, concerned.

"Christine...is in labor, Doctor. She has...requested your presence...at your earliest convenience."

McCoy could tell how much control Spock was exerting. He motioned to an orderly to equip him with an emergency surgical kit as well as his regular medikit after being helped into a surgical scrub shirt. Gloves could wait until he reached Spock and Chris's quarters. "I'm on my way, Spock. Hang on. McCoy out."

It seemed forever before the Doctor arrived, but at last Spock's sensitive ears caught the sound of the door buzzer. "Come," he called; McCoy entered. "In here, Doctor," came the First Officer's voice from the sleeping alcove. McCoy followed it, putting on his pre-powdered surgical gloves after scrubbing up in the bathroom.

"How is she, Spock?" he asked upon reaching the bed.

"Fully dilated, Doctor," was the reply even as the Vulcan kept his mind linked with his wife's.

"Then it shouldn't be but a few more hours--but you'll have to play nurse. It would take too long to get to Sickbay and have everything set up."

At that moment, Christine writhed and moaned. "Spock..." she said out loud, voice laced with pain.

"I am here, my wife. It will not be much longer," he told her soothingly.

"The pain," she whispered. "Please stop the pain..."

Spock's heart went out to his wife, but there was little he could do beyond taking on the worst of her pain and keeping their minds linked while Dr. McCoy helped the child along. He leaned down to kiss her damp forehead as the Doctor eased the baby's head and shoulders out. "I am doing all I can," he assured her. "And the Doctor is here. You will be all right soon--as will our child."

"I love you," she murmured, prompting unbidden tears in her husband's eyes.

As time passed, Spock's love and respect for his wife's courage in the face of such pain grew by leaps and bounds. She was in great pain, but took the time to reassure him. For the umpteenth time, he wondered how he could ever have been deemed worthy of such as her. Even after all the heartache he had caused her, Christine had continued loving him and standing by him, always there should he need her.

He couldn't help but feel a pang of guilt and regret for the way he had unthinkingly hurt this gentle, loving woman over the years. It would take him the rest of his life to make it up to her, but it was a debt he was glad to pay. He was sure that she had forgiven him long ago, but it would be a long time before he would be able to forgive himself.

"And thank you," she concluded between pains.

Spock raised an incredulous eyebrow. "For what?" His voice was just loud enough for his wife to hear.

"For giving me this...opportunity...to bear you a child," she answered.

_The pleasure is all mine,_ he told her through their bond. _In addition, I could not have done it without you._

"Spock," McCoy called, bringing the Vulcan back to reality.

"Yes, Doctor?" He looked up into McCoy's eyes.

"Your child," the Doctor smiled. "She's here."

"She is? Where?" Spock could hardly believe his ears.

He had sensed a lessening of his wife's pain, but had no recollection of the Doctor wiping the baby off, giving her a rubdown or anything that followed. Of course, he had been lost in thought, so that could account for it. He looked down, relieved to see Christine asleep. He gently broke the meld and brushed her lips with his while McCoy returned to the bathroom to remove his surgical gloves and wash the newborn child. The next thing he knew, the Doctor was calling from the bathroom.

"In here, Spock. Come meet your daughter."

The Science Officer had to force himself to move from his wife's side, but managed to do it in order to see his newborn daughter. The Chief Surgeon had the infant lying on a towel spread on the bathroom counter near the sink, protecting the child with his body. In obvious ways the child looked like him, Spock noted--ears, brows, cheekbones--but her hair (what there was of it) was brownish-blonde and she had her mother's patrician nose and lips. He wasn't sure what color eyes she had and asked McCoy.

"I didn't think to look, to tell you the truth," he was told. "But her eyes should be open in a day or so and we'll find out then. In the meantime, we'd better get them to Sickbay. There shouldn't be any problems, but I don't want to take any chances, so I'm keeping them overnight. You bundle Chris up and I'll take the baby."

Spock automatically wrapped his wife in a blanket and followed the Doctor out, carrying her in his arms as they entered a turbolift a short distance down the corridor which would take them to Sickbay.

Once mother and child were properly settled, McCoy suggested that Spock shower and change, then go to bed. It had been a long night and both had earned their rest. The Vulcan was ready to refuse, but there had been such authority in McCoy's voice that he found himself obeying without a murmur. He returned upon completion of the aforementioned task. He also requested permission to remain with his wife and daughter because it was too lonely in their quarters by himself.

The Doctor waved his hand absently as he yawned deeply. "I suppose it wouldn't hurt. There's an empty bed next to hers; you can use it." McCoy was already heading for the Sickbay doors. "I'm going to have a shower and fall into bed. Let me know if Chris or the baby needs anything. I'll see you all in the morning."

"Of course, Doctor."

Spock waited until the doors closed behind McCoy before drawing a curtain around his wife's bed and joining her there after undressing. He drew her into his arms and promptly fell asleep with their child between them.

For the next two and a half months, the three lived a dream of what a marriage and parenthood could be like. It hardly seemed possible that anyone could have been so blessed, so happy. Of course, in spite of all this, Christine was apprehensive. This was usually when some kind of disaster struck and she didn't want anything to destroy the perfect happiness they shared.

"We are both healthy, my wife, as is our child, and we are happy. It is unlikely that that will change any time soon," Spock pointed out. He and Christine were relaxing on their bed, their small daughter napping in her nearby antigrav cradle. He reached up to stroke his wife's hair, then kissed her before his embrace gently tightened.

"You and your eternal optimism." Christine smiled as she raised a hand to caress her husband's cheek before stealing another kiss. "I do hope you're right, Spock. I would like for us to be like this always, have nothing ever change it. Unfortunately, life isn't always kind. It can treat you well for a time, then turn around and strike you down with death or serious illness--if not your own, that of someone close to you."

Spock frowned. "You sound as though you want or expect something bad to happen. A most illogical attitude."

"Ì'm only trying to be realistic," she threw back defensively.

"That is not how it sounds," he countered, releasing her upon hearing little T'Mara awaken. "But there is no time for further discussion now. Our daughter is demanding attention." As Christine got up, her husband finished, "Let us not dwell on speculation of what may or may not happen in the future. Instead, let us make the most of right now, for that is what is most important."

Unfortunately, this was one time Spock would be proved wrong and Christine right, though he was mercifully unaware of it at this point. Even so, her words had disturbed him more than he cared to admit, even to her. It was a bare two weeks later that things began to change. At first Spock told himself it was simply coincidence, but as time went by, even he had to admit that Christine's words had been all too prophetic.

Thus began a time of anguished, hopeful prayer for Spock, even though he generally didn't believe in it--prompted by his Human half, he was sure. Not to mention sorrow of such depth and intensity that not even his Vulcan discipline could overcome it or keep it from showing on his face, in his voice...and virtually every aspect of his life.

Christine and McCoy had treated some natives of Epsilon Canaris III for Sakuro's disease. It was rare, but almost always fatal if contracted and not treated before its critical stage was reached--which could be anywhere from a week to a month, depending on the patient. They managed to save the ones who came into their care, but had no idea how Christine could have become infected. McCoy couldn't believe it because decon procedures had been scrupulously observed. It wasn't until two weeks after the Canarans' departure that they learned of her exposure.

Due to her relative youth and good health, the first symptom to manifest itself was a low-grade fever. Christine dismissed it and was even able to hide it for a time. Spock became understandably alarmed when the fever went over one hundred degrees, ordering his wife to Sickbay for treatment. She maintained that she had had fevers like this many times and that they were nothing to worry about because she always recovered within a couple of days. When Spock persisted, she chided him for being a mother hen, but did promise to go see McCoy if she wasn't better within two days...which she wasn't. Instead, she grew worse, soon unable to nurse their daughter.

The little girl had to be put on formula because of this; Spock, McCoy and Uhura alternated caring for her. By the time McCoy discovered the illness, an infection had invaded Christine's mouth so she was unable to eat. All she could do was drink--and not much of that. What she did get, she got IV or through a straw. Talking was restricted, too. She had always been slender, but was now positively emaciated...not to mention too weak to even lift her head from her pillow.

Because the other patients had needed so much, the supply of necessary medications was dangerously low. Even at maximum warp, they were at least a week away from the nearest facility which could replenish their supply. What's more, there were no ships near enough to pick up the necessary medications and deliver them to the _Enterprise_ in time to do Christine any good. Spock visited his wife every day, sometimes bringing their child with him. At those times, he would place the child so Christine's hand could brush the baby's brownish-blonde curls. Either that or he positioned the tiny girl so her mother could brush her lips across her forehead in a brief kiss.

It was almost too much of an effort for Christine to even smile any more, but she could no longer speak without pain--so a smile was her only means of telling Spock how she appreciated his bringing small T'Mara to see her, one of the few things she responded to other than his playing his Vulcan harp for her. Even so, Spock held out cautious hopes for her recovery until the first symptoms characterizing the disease's critical stage began to appear…such as red corpuscle death, which prompted pain in her bones and joints ...then erratic respiration and dangerously low blood pressure.

Because of these symptoms, Christine had to be monitored around the clock. McCoy hated feeling so helpless, alternating between swearing and crying at the lack of proper drugs to cure her. On Gamma Canaris N, the Companion had joined with Nancy Hedford to save her life, but there was no such last-minute lifesaver for Christine. Worst of all was the fact that she could have been cured in a matter of hours if they had just had enough of the proper medications. As it was, she was slowly dying before his very eyes and he could do nothing to save her.

Of all people, Christine should not be dying. Not now, when she had so much to live for. A devoted husband, a beautiful child, a flourishing career... What would happen to Spock when she died? He had been so happy and content because he was finally being loved as he deserved. He had become dependent on Christine's love almost for his very existence. What would become of him when that love was gone?

Upon receiving word of Christine's illness, the _Enterprise_ crew had been praying for a miracle--and none more fervently than her closest friend, Nyota Uhura. She privately cried after every visit, her heart aching as much for the husband and daughter Chris would leave behind, Spock and T'Mara, as for Chris herself. It was becoming progressively more difficult to keep a cheerful front with Christine. She had to know that it was only a matter of time now, that her life could be measured in days, possibly hours...but Uhura forced herself to do so, nevertheless.

As for Spock, even his relatively limited medical knowledge could not disguise the fact that he knew his wife was dying, even though he also kept up a front for her sake. It was Kirk who happened to catch the look of sorrow in his friend's eyes when the two were playing a game of 3-D chess. They hadn't played in some time, not since before Christine's illness had worsened. After that, Spock spent almost all of his time with her, hardly leaving her side even to sleep or eat. He only left to go on his duty shift or shower and change clothes, leaving standing orders to notify him immediately of any change whatsoever in her condi- tion. T'Mara's care was left in the hands of McCoy and Uhura.

The Captain had only gone to Sickbay once during Christine's illness, not long before the critical stage. He was stunned and horrified at the change in her. She who had been so beautiful was reduced to a living skeleton. Her frail body barely made a dent in the blankets that covered her, and she did not move at all the entire time he was there, scarcely even breathing. But what really went to his heart was seeing Spock holding her pencil-thin fingers to his cheek, then raising them to his lips and kissing them. The Vulcan thought he was alone, so he allowed himself to cry, whispering her name over and over as tears silently fell on the fragile hand he held.

Kirk kept a respectful distance in spite of his desire to go to his grieving friend and comfort him. Words were so inadequate at a time like this, but Kirk still wished he could have taken Spock's pain and borne it for him.

"Rook to Queen's level two," the Vulcan said, raising an eyebrow when Kirk didn't reply. A long silence followed before Spock broke it. "Jim? Jim, is anything wrong?"

The Captain visibly jumped as Spock's voice registered. "Huh? What? Oh, Spock. Sorry. I was …preoccupied."

"What is your move?" Spock persisted.

"Uh...Knight to King's level one,"­ Kirk finally said, all too aware of Spock's eyes on him, seeming to read his mind.

The game wasn't long in ending since Spock had his Human friend checkmated within the next two moves. The strange part was that Kirk should have won. It was because of that wrong move that the Vulcan knew there was definitely something on Jim's mind, for the Captain hardly seemed to notice or even hear him when he said, "Checkmate." Another silence ensued before Spock's eyes narrowed, stabbing right through Kirk. It was all the Human could do to sit still. "Jim, if there is something you wish to discuss with me, I would appreciate your coming out with it."

The Captain sighed. "I never could keep anything from you--and I'm sorry if I seemed...evasive. I merely wanted to help you forget your troubles, at least for a little while."

The Vulcan smiled slightly, knowing what 'troubles' Kirk meant. "Christine, I assume," he said quietly.

Kirk nodded. "She's dying, you know," he pointed out, wishing he hadn't when unfathomable sorrow clouded his friend's eyes.

"I know. Dr. McCoy says it is only a matter of hours now."

Spock's voice was barely above a whisper, his head bowed to hide his misty eyes. He had no idea

he could cry so easily. Control always seemed to come so effortlessly before. Kirk reached a hand to cover his Vulcan friend's own, clasping it in a gesture of comfort and affection. Spock grasped the hand like a lifeline.

"Spock, it's all right to cry. It's a normal reaction at a time like this. You have nothing to be ashamed of."

The Vulcan kept his head bowed, feeling a painful lump form in his throat as tears filled his eyes and threatened to overflow. He fought to hold them back. "Normal for Humans, perhaps...but I am a Vulcan."

"Grief is natural for anyone in your situation, Spock--even Vulcans. You have simply been taught to hide it, suppress it." Kirk gave his friend a knowing look. "I defy you to say otherwise."

Spock looked up to meet Kirk's eyes; the Captain saw that his face was wet with tears. He wasn't even trying to hide his grief. "Thank you, Jim. Thank you for caring. I have been keeping up a front for...Christine's sake, but the thought of--losing her is almost more than I can bear." The Vulcan bowed his head again, ashamed at his weakness, but knew that Jim would take it to his own grave, never telling even McCoy. "She has…given me so much. So much love and--happiness. Not to mention…my daughter. Jim, I…love her. I need her! She...must not die, I tell you--_she must not die_. I could not...live...without her!"

The 3-D set had been put away a short time before, and the two friends were talking over drinks when the Vulcan suddenly fell silent. Kirk looked up at his alien friend and was stunned. He had never seen anyone so grief-stricken, hardly knowing what to say--or if, indeed, there was anything _to_ say.

"Spock, I'm..." His voice trailed off, words failing him.

"Jim..."

The voice was so broken, so filled with anguish and sorrow that Kirk felt tears burn his own eyelids. The next thing he knew, his Vulcan friend left his chair and threw himself into his arms. Spock clung to Kirk like a lifeline, his shoulders shaking with the sobs he had held back for so long as he knelt beside the Captain's chair and buried his face in his friend's shoulder. Kirk knew that Spock was capable of tears; he had seen it many times in the course of their friendship--but never had he been like this.

James Kirk had endured his share of tragedy, particularly the deaths of his son David, Spock him- self, his brother and sister-in-law--not to mention Edith Keeler and his own pregnant young wife, Miramanee... Sharp pain stabbed him at the thought of them, but his concern for Spock took top priority right now. His duty was to be the best friend he knew how to be; he must do everything possible to help his loved friend work through his grief and eventually accept it--then get on with his life as Christine would want him to.

It wasn't too long after Spock had quieted that the intercom beeped insistently. "Sickbay to Kirk." McCoy's voice was dull with his own suppressed grief. "Jim, is Spock there? If he is, tell him to come to Sickbay right away. It's Christine..." The Doctor's voice almost broke.

"We'll be right there, Bones," Kirk promised. "Captain out." He felt the tousled dark head lift from his shoulder even as his hand lifted from where he had been stroking Spock's silky dark hair in a soothing manner. "Spock, McCoy just called. It's Christine."

The Vulcan was on his feet in a flash, out the door almost before Kirk knew he had moved. Kirk followed within moments, reaching Sickbay in time to see Spock gather his wife's almost weightless body into his arms, kissing her hair passionately.

_Christine, my wife... don't leave me. Please don't leave me. I need you! _

_Spock, my beloved,_ came her fading mind-voice. _You have... made me so happy. I have... cherished our time together. Now, promise me... _Her mind-voice grew even fainter; she was slipping away even as she 'spoke'.

_Anything,_ he promised. _Only, please stay! _

_I...wish I could... Please--take care of T'Mara. Tell her about me when she's old enough to und-erstand. Tell her how I...loved her, loved her before she was... ever born. And I...want you to remarry when you are ready. You...need someone to love--and someone to love you. Promise me...even if you don't mean it, promise me._

_I...promise,_ came the reluctant and sorrowful reply.

_Kiss me...goodbye. I want to...die with the taste of your kiss...on my lips._ The Vulcan kissed his wife for the last time even as tears again filled his eyes. _Thank you..._ He felt her go limp in his arms.

_Christine!_ his mind cried in anguish.

_Goodbye, my beloved...I'll be waiting for you._With that, she died in his arms.

_Christine!_ he called again, but she was gone. Their link had been pulled out by the roots, leaving wounds that hurt to Spock's very soul. He had never felt so empty and alone in his life--and there would never be another. Not like Christine. She was in a class by herself. Oh gods, why could he not have died with her? How could he ever go on without her? For an interminable time, Spock simply sat there and held her, his tears wetting her hair as he buried his face in it and sobbed, inhaling the breath of fragrance still lingering there. The next thing he knew, there was a gentle touch on his shoulder, accompanied by an even gentler voice.

"Spock, she's gone. It's time to let her go."

"Never," he whispered stubbornly.

"It's what she wanted. You must honor it," the voice insisted.

"Please...leave me alone, Doctor. Let me be with her--one last time." There was such pleading in their friend's voice that Kirk and McCoy could do nothing but comply.

"All right, Spock. I suppose we owe you that much. Come on, Jim... You have ten minutes," the Doctor said just before the Sickbay doors swished shut behind him and Kirk, leaving Spock to say his final goodbyes to his departed wife.

The funeral was the next day, one of the saddest the _Enterprise_ crew had ever known. Christine left behind many grieving friends, particularly Nyota Uhura and Leonard McCoy. Not to mention a bereaved husband of scarcely fifteen months, along with an infant daughter, barely three and a half months old. All wondered what the widowed Spock would do, how he would raise a daughter by himself. It was either that or send the child to Vulcan to be raised by her grandparents and request regular updates on her condition and progress.

McCoy and Kirk had never seen any father so devoted to his child. They finally deduced that the little girl was the last link the Vulcan had to the wife he had loved and lost, so he had no intention of parting with her until he absolutely had to. Even so, both of them tactfully (and separately) suggested that Spock contact his parents. Kirk would then grant him bereavement leave so he could get his head and heart together, as well as devote himself to his small, motherless daughter.

Spock knew it was best that he get away from everything, all the memories the _Enterprise_ held of Christine and their all-too-brief life together as husband and wife before healing could begin. It wasn't that Jim and the Doctor were incapable of looking after him and T'Mara, but only Vulcan could reinforce the discipline he needed to regain control over his grief and guilt.

In addition, his mother would be thrilled to care for T'Mara--and as both his friends had said, sometimes it was necessary to have a change of scene to get one's head and heart together after a loved one's death. Not to mention the fact that his parents would see to it that he didn't will himself to die as a lot of married Vulcans did when they lost their mates to death. After all, he had a child who needed him.

It took about ten days before Spock received an answer to his stargram. Sarek and Amanda had expressed their deepest sympathies at his tragic loss, but pointed out that Christine would want him to get on with his life...most importantly, raise their daughter--then find a new love and be happy. They would also welcome him and little T'Mara for as long as they wanted or needed to stay.

In addition, he had promised Christine he would, and Vulcans always kept their word. Even so, it was going to be the hardest thing he had ever done. The pain of losing her, their severed bond, was like an open wound in his mind and heart. He and Christine had truly been "one flesh," as the Christian Bible so beautifully expressed it. He did not desire another wife. No one could ever truly replace Christine or the  
love they had shared together.

For the time being, however, his mother would care for T'Mara so as to free him for other things while on Vulcan. Jim had said to take as long as he needed, but Spock knew it was best for him to "get back into the swing of things," as Christine had often said. Work was a most effective therapy for grief. He wrote back to his parents and told them the stardate and time of his arrival, then to prepare his old room for T'Mara. He would use the guest room. Now all that was necessary was for him to get through the week it would take for the _Enterprise_ to reach Vulcan from their present location.

At this time Uhura was watching a holovid Christine had made and deposited with the Captain, instructing him to give it to her friend in the event of her, Christine's, death. In it Christine said how much she had treasured their friendship and appreciated all that she, Uhura, had done for her. Particularly the times the female physician had unburdened her heart about Spock.

Uhura was also asked to do all she could for Spock and T'Mara since she was one of the few the Vulcan trusted around his baby girl. Uhura's brown eyes filled with tears as she watched, blurring Christine's image -- so beautiful and healthy, a stark contrast to the image of her tragic, premature, and needless death.

"Oh God, Chris, why did you have to die?" the dark woman tearfully demanded of the frozen image on her viewscreen. "It's not fair! You had so much to live for -- a husband who adored you, a beautiful child, a flourishing career... I'm going to miss you so much, beloved friend -- and will do my utmost to help Spock and T'Mara. She's so beautiful, Chris. The very image of you. You would be so proud of her!"

The night before the Enterprise reached Vulcan, Spock retrieved from his desk drawer the holovid Christine had given him six weeks after their daughter's birth, leaving instructions that he was only to watch it in the event of her death. He inserted it in the PLAYBACK slot of the video terminal on his personal computer and told it to turn on. Moments later, the heart-wrenchingly beautiful image of Christine as he had known and loved her appeared.

_Since you are watching this, Spock, we will assume that I'm dead. I hope I died in the line of duty and that neither you nor T'Mara was harmed, for I love you both more than life itself. As you know, I loved you for many years before finally winning you, my darling husband -- but the wait was worth it. You gave me unbelievable happiness and a love I never dreamed existed. _

I treasured every moment we spent together, my husband... cherished every caress, every kiss. I have never known a man's lips to be as sweet as yours -- and the feel of your body possessing mine whenever we made love... I have never felt such complete happiness, such total satisfaction and fulfillment. You were indeed the missing piece of my life's puzzle.

_I'm sure you remember how happy I was when I discovered I was pregnant. I prayed for a son who would look just like you, but don't think I was unaware that you were hoping for a girl. For that reason, I did my utmost to grant your wish, and I think I did a bang-up job, if I do say so myself!_

The image laughed, then continued.

_I can only imagine the grief you must be feeling at my death, beloved -- but remember, to live in the hearts one leaves behind is to never die. I will live forever through you and our daughter. Not to mention friends like Nyota and Leonard McCoy, the man I loved as a father and respected as a colleague. He helped me in ways I shall never be able to repay, and will always have a special place in my heart. _

Please tell him this for me, for I know he must be grieving as well. He always did have a heart softer than a crushed apple, even if he did always hide it behind a gruff, brusque exterior -- just as you always hid your feelings behind logic.

Spock found himself smiling despite his sorrow. She always could read him so well, know his true thoughts and feelings, no matter how vehemently he denied them or tried to conceal them.

_I was very much aware of your close friendship with the Captain. I would have had to have been an idiot not to have known, especially when you spent more time with him, paid more attention to him than you ever did to me. I was also aware that he didn't particularly like my hanging around you, butas long as he was always a friend to you, that was what mattered. _

I didn't care what he thought of me as long as he treated you right. _Of course, I couldn't entirely blame you for preferring his company, the way I used to chase you. You would think that I'd remember what Mother always said, that men dislike being changed... but being me, I forgot every bit of advice she ever gave when I met you._

_I do hope you've forgiven me for my illogical actions, but I had never known anyone like you. You were so beautiful. So tall and slender, well-built with silky, dark hair (at least it looked that way!) and such elegant ears. Not to mention your lovely eyes -- such a soft, velvety brown -- and your voice which matched them. Then your upswept brows and thick, dark eyelashes... as well as your lips, which seemed so very kissable!_

_I long ago lost count of how many times I dreamed of you kissing and caressing me, making love to me -__- but the reality of your love surpassed every fantasy I ever had, not to mention the depth and strength of our bond. I've never felt such union with anyone, and now realize how your folks have stayed together so long. Who could ever top both physical and mental intimacy? I truly believe that Vulcans have discovered the secret to a long and happy marriage. Too bad you couldn't share it with the rest of the galaxy..._

Christine's image smiled again.

_Well, I've rambled on long enough. In conclusion, I want to say this -- never forget that I love you, Spock. I have always loved you, and I always will. Farewell, my most precious love. May you have a long and happy life... and  
be sure to kiss T'Mara for me every night from now on, okay?_

She held up two fingers. He pressed his own to the screen, then she threw him a kiss as her image faded. Tears blurred his vision at the so very Human gesture. How very much he would miss her; how empty his life would be without her and her love. Thank the gods for T'Mara. She was the image of her mother, truly Christine as she would have been had she been born Vulcan.He had no idea how long he sat, lost in thought and memories,but the next thing he knew the intercom was beeping. He opened it to find Jim on the other end.

"Spock, we've just assumed orbit around Vulcan. Did you want to contact your parents first, or simply beam down with T'Mara instead?"

"It is necessary to prepare T'Mara first, so I would prefer to contact them beforehand," he said.

"I could have your mother beam up to help you with the baby if you like. You did say she's never seen her."

"I would appreciate that. I am... not experienced where babies are concerned."

"Consider it done, Spock. Talk to you later. Kirk out."

The next voice he heard upon answering his intercom again was Amanda's. "My son, Captain Kirk said you wanted me to beam up and help you with T'Mara," Amanda said gently, her voice painfully reminiscent of Christine.

"Yes, Mother. I -- cannot do it alone," Spock replied quietly.

"I understand," the older woman said. After a short pause, she continued. "I'm so sorry about Christine, my son. I always liked her, and know how you have grieved for her, how much you loved her -- and how much she loved you."

The Vulcan had such a lump in his throat at the mention of his lost wife that he didn't trust his voice to admonish his mother. In addition, she was right and they both knew it. There was no use denying it. "Thank you, Mother," he replied carefully. "I will be expecting you -- and could you tell Father that I will need to speak privately with him as soon as possible after beaming down?"

"Of course, Spock. I'll see you in a few minutes."

Fifteen minutes later his door buzzer sounded.

"Come," Spock said, unable to bring himself to rise and greet his mother.

"Spock?" Amanda called after stepping inside and away from the door.

"In here, Mother," came the reply from the work area.

Amanda stepped into the doorway leading to it, both happy and sad at the sight of her son gazing with a mixture of tenderness and sorrow at the holograph of a radiant Christine cradling baby T'Mara a month after her birth. In that moment she knew that only one person could have taken that holograph: Spock himself. For a long time Amanda simply stood and quietly watched him, hands folded in front of her. Tears wet her own cheeks even as she wished she could have gone to her grieving son and gathered him into her arms as she had when he was a child.

She remembered stroking his silky, dark hair and crooning comforting words to ease his pain -- but that had been much easier to do when he was small than now. Even so, she was still his mother, and it was her duty to comfort him as best she could. She walked over to him and tentatively stroked his hair.

"Spock, I'm here. What did you want me to do?"

Spock moved like a zombie as he reached for his mother's hand and grasped it like  
a lifeline. "Mother..."

She had never heard one word so filled with sorrow. All Amanda could do, however, was hold her son's hand and kiss the top of his head. She then stroked it with her free hand, resting her wet cheek there as her own tears dampened it. If only she could have taken his sorrow and borne it for him -- but this was something Spock would have to work through himself. All she could do was try to ease his pain a little. She wrapped her arms around his shoulders and squeezed him as she brushed her lips across the tip of his left ear.

"Oh, my son, I'm so sorry..." The touch of her lips seemed to bring him back to himself. "Now where is my granddaughter? It was mean of you to keep her from me," the older woman teased to lighten the mood -- or at least try to.

A ghost of a smile crossed the grimly set lips, lightening the deep sorrow evident in the dark sad eyes above them. "It... is good to see you, Mother. Thank you for coming. T'Mara is -- in her room."

"And just where is that?" Amanda asked as she gave her son's shoulder a comforting pat. "I can hardly wait to see her."

"Go through our -- _my_ -- bedroom," he quickly amended. "Her door is on the right-hand side. I would... appreciate your dressing her and packing her belongings. I have... already seen to my own."

He gestured to three suitcases, two garment bags, and his Vulcan harp in its case. They had been placed near the entrance to the work area, ready to be picked up  
and taken to the Transporter Room at the designated time.

"No problem," she smiled. "I'd be glad to." Halfway there, Amanda turned around. "I'd like you to come too, if you will. I haven't been with you for a long time."

Spock seemed reluctant, but got up and joined his mother in his daughter's small room. Even so, Amanda suspected that nothing had been moved or changed since Christine's death. Her clothing was still in the closet and drawers, her cosmetics and such in the bathroom. There was even a lingering scent of rose-musk perfume in the air, as though their owner had only to walk in the door. Unusual, when there was usually the scent of exotic incense which Spock used while meditating. Even so, the older woman had her doubts as to whether her son had eaten, slept, or even meditated since he had lost his wife.

Spock sat down in the nearby rocking chair as Amanda lifted the tiny girl from her cradle.

"Oh Spock, she's beautiful! The image of Christine," the already-doting grandmother gushed as she soundly kissed the baby. "How old is she now?"

"Four point three-three months," came the reply, so quiet that Amanda had to strain to catch it.

She looked up to see her son's dark head bowed, sorrow evident in every line of his body.

"Spock, what happened? With Christine, I mean?" Amanda hated to make him relive the pain, but he hadn't mentioned anything other than the basic fact that his wife had died. No details.

"She was -- infected with Sakuro's disease," he explained. "There was... not enough medication on board ship to cure her. All we could do was -- make her comfortable. The disease... ran its course in 29.8 solar days, and she -- died in my arms in Sickbay." His voice lowered with every word; by the time he finished, she could scarcely hear him.

"What are you going to do with her things?"

"Keep some, then let her lady friends aboard ship have the rest."

"Have you told the Captain that?"

There was a barely perceptible nod of his head.

"Miss Uhura will have first choice, then the others will be allowed in. I have told him to do this after my... departure."

By this time the small girl had been bathed, changed and dressed -- then Amanda began packing her things.

"I shouldn't be much longer, Spock," she said. "Then we can beam down and... go from there."

Another barely perceptible nod, but no reply. Half an hour later Amanda finished. She had filled two suitcases and a diaper bag. There was also the carrier where T'Mara would be placed during the trip to the Transporter Room -- and her antigrav cradle.

"Spock, I'm ready. We can go now."

He stood up and picked up the small suitcases containing his daughter's belongings to place them with his own. He then called two security men to assist with the luggage. They arrived moments later, following Spock and his mother to the Transporter Room after loading up. Spock carried one suitcase and his Vulcan harp; Amanda carried the child and her diaper bag. Upon arrival they were greeted by Kirk, McCoy and Uhura, all of whom were off-shift at this point. All others were discreetly absent, having already said their goodbyes earlier.

"It's good to see you, Amanda," Kirk said somberly. "In spite of the unfortunate circumstances."

"And you, Jim." She nodded in his direction.

"Take care of him," Kirk told her, indicating Spock.

"You can count on that," she assured him.

"That goes double for me," McCoy said, coming over to where the older woman stood with the sleeping child. "This little princess, too." He leaned down to kiss the baby. "We're going to miss her. It isn't every day we have a baby aboard ship, even for a little while."

At this point Uhura stepped up.

"She's so precious," the Bantu said, a mother's love in her eyes. "I wish I could have had one like her. It's been a treat caring for her."

"Thank you for all you've done," Amanda said.

"It was a privilege," the other woman replied. "Now let me kiss her one last time." Uhura leaned down and copied McCoy's action, then stroked the tiny girl's silky head. "Goodbye, sweetheart. You be good for Grandma now... and never forget  
that Auntie Nyota loves you."

"It is time to go," Spock said, taking his place on the transporter platform.

Kirk wanted to embrace his friend one last time, but now all he could do was salute. (They had said their own private farewells a few hours beforehand, sharing an embrace for one of the few times in their friendship.)

"All the best, Spock." Kirk parted his fingers in the traditional salute. "Keep in touch, and let us know how you and T'Mara are doing."

"If he doesn't, I will," Amanda said before Spock could reply.

He merely raised an eyebrow at her and answered Kirk. "Live long and prosper, my friend. I will miss you."

"Keep out of trouble now, Spock. That little princess of yours too. Doctor's orders!" The Chief Surgeon's voice was gruff, but held an underlying note of deep affection.

"I will do my best, Doctor." Spock nodded in McCoy's direction before motioning him closer. "Take care of Jim too -- and yourself," the Vulcan said so only the Doctor could hear. "I could not bear to lose him as well... or you."

"Thank you, Spock." McCoy's eyes misted over in spite of himself. "That's the nicest thing you've ever said to me."

McCoy backed away as Uhura moved up to make her goodbyes. Amanda stepped onto the adjoining pad; the luggage had already been strategically placed.

"Take care of yourself, Spock. T'Mara, too. I'm going to miss you both." She reached to gently squeeze his hand; he gave her a half-smile and lifted her hand to  
his lips.

"Thank you, Miss Uhura. Live long and prosper."

He then turned in Kirk's direction; the Captain was manning the transporter console. "Energize," Spock said.

The closest friends of Spock and Christine somberly watched the Vulcan and his Human mother dematerialize, his small motherless daughter in her arms. Each prayed their grieving friend would find a new love again someday -- and possibly father more children. In the meantime, however, they simply prayed that he would work through his grief, eventually putting it behind him to concentrate on raising his daughter.

"We'd best get to bed now," the Captain said. "0600 comes pretty early. I'll see you both in the morning."

Kirk smiled and nodded in their direction before disappearing through the Transporter Room doors. After a moment McCoy and Uhura followed, stepping into the turbolift which would take them to E Deck and their respective quarters. Each thought their own private thoughts about what had happened this month, and what would become of Spock now that he was alone again.

Bedtime could be any time of the day or night, depending on the whim of a given individual... particularly a Vulcan individual, if they considered it logical. In this case, it was 2300 hours when Amanda tentatively knocked on her son's bedroom door after leaving her husband asleep. Spock and T'Mara had been planetside for a week now. The infant had been asleep for some time, but Amanda was sure that her son, the child's father, was not... and if her guess was right, _had_ not.

"Spock?" she called out softly.

"Mother? Do you wish entrance?" Spock's voice held a note Amanda had not heard since he was small. He sounded as though he had been... crying!

"Are you all right, my son?" Now she was concerned as well as curious.

"I am. Is there something you wish to speak with me about? It is quite late." The voice was tightly controlled now.

"Did you speak privately with your father as you wished?"

"Affirmative. In fact our conversation concluded only moments ago."

His English had become stilted and formal, something which happened whenever someone was getting too close to something Spock didn't want them to know. For someone who didn't know him well, it was an effective dodge, but for such as her, it was a cry for help. Of course, Spock would deny it if asked, just as he had always denied he had any feelings or ego to hurt -- or any grief at the loss of his wife and the mother of his child. And to think that Vulcans claimed that they were incapable of lying... Amanda smiled knowingly. After over 60 years of marriage to one, she was well aware that that was the biggest lie yet!

"Did it help you?" she asked, getting slightly tired of talking through a door.

It was much better to talk face-to-face... but on Vulcan, it was a gross invasion of privacy to enter someone's private chambers without an invitation. Of course, there were exceptions to every rule, and this was one of them. Her only child's welfare was at stake -- and he needed her, whether he admitted it or not, so Vulcan propriety be damned. Doors were never locked in a Vulcan home, so she pressed the button to her right on the outside wall. The door slid open and she stepped inside, stepping away as it closed behind her. He had not answered her and she was determined to find out why.

Even so, she was sure that Spock had heard the door open, learned of her presence and would order her out... and she would have to go. But there was only silence as she approached the bed where he lay fully clothed, holding something to his cheek. Even in the dim light provided by the flame-pot, Amanda could see her son's face.

It was wet with tears, and his lips moved silently as he cradled what looked like a woman's nightgown against his cheek. Spock hadn't mentioned Christine since his arrival, nor would he permit her name to be spoken in his presence -- even in passing. Amanda had never been a lip-reader, but deduced what he must have been whispering... and it had to be Christine's nightgown he was holding to his cheek and crying.

She also detected the same rose-musk perfume scent here as she had in the shipboard quarters Spock had shared with Christine. Then she caught a gleam from out of the corner of her eye. Light bouncing off a bottle... a perfume bottle. Rose-musk perfume. That was when she seen the small heart-shaped bottle sitting on his nightstand, the same bottle she had seen in the bathroom of the shipboard quarters -- on the counter near the sink.

The holo he had taken of Christine and T'Mara sat beside the bottle. He had not come to dinner, assuring her that he would take a tray to his room, as indeed he had... but she could tell that it hadn't been touched. Spock seemed oblivious of his mother's presence, not realizing it until after she sat down beside him and stroked  
his silky hair.

"Spock, you've been crying," she observed.

For a time there was no reaction, then he looked up at her in astonishment. "Mother..." His voice was still husky with tears. "What are you doing here?"

"You are my son. This is our family home. What happens under this roof is no one's business but ours." She touched his cheek before he could move to stop her. "Now are you going to deny that you've been crying? My hand came away wet with tears."

"Vulcans do not cry," he maintained.

"Spock, I am your mother. I know you more intimately than anyone has ever known you, with the possible exception of your wife. There is nothing you can hide from me."

The Vulcan raised his head to stare at his mother in amazement. Her normally gentle voice had become hard and cold. Perhaps it was a result of many years among Vulcans, but still sounded strange coming from her. In addition, it was illogical to deny an all-too-obvious fact.

"Very well," he reluctantly admitted. "I have... indeed been crying. It is -- Christine. I can neither eat nor sleep. Every time I try, every time I... close my eyes, I see -- her face as it was when I... took that holograph of her with -- our daughter." His head bowed; his voice trailed off again.

Amanda lovingly clasped her son's hand. "Spock, it's going to take time, but you _will _eventually be able to put your grief behind you. You can't see that happening now because your grief is too fresh, too recent... but I assure you, it _will_ happen. Time is a great healer, my son. I would never lie to you."

"I know," came his quiet reply. "But I am -- so empty, so alone, without her. Our severed bond... is like -- an open wound."

"Of course it is." Amanda's voice was infinitely gentle and sympathetic. "And it's going to hurt for a long time... but there will eventually come a time, perhaps after you return to the Enterprise, that you will meet someone new and once again know love."

Spock shook his head. "I will never remarry."

"Yes, you will," his mother countered. "Maybe not this year, or even next -- but you _will_ eventually remarry."

His jaw tightened stubbornly, reminding Amanda so much of Sarek that it was uncanny. "You look so like your father when you do that... but I think even he would agree with me on this. It is not only unnatural, it is illogical for a Vulcan not to have a mate. Remember that there is also the _pon farr_ to consider."Amanda paused for breath before continuing. "There's no talking to you now, because you've got your mind made up -- but mark my words, Spock, you will be remarried before your next mating cycle."

"Which will not be for another two point-eight years," Spock pointed out.

"And a lot can happen in two point-eight years," she reminded him. To his surprise, she then drew him close and hugged him fiercely. Before he could recover from the shock of her doing that, she leaned down to kiss the top of his head. "One other thing: don't ever forget that there's nothing you can't tell me. As far as that goes, I'll probably know how you feel, what you're trying to say anyway." She picked up the untouched food tray and went to the door, pausing there momentarily. "Now _do_ try to sleep, my son. You look exhausted."

"Yes, Mother," Spock replied dutifully. Of course, he privately doubted it since he was still too keyed up from the conversation with his father -- but perhaps if he tried to meditate...

"Come," said Dr. Leonard 'Bones' McCoy to the buzzer at the door of his office in Sickbay. His brows raised in a very Vulcan manner upon seeing a troubled James Kirk step in... for another private talk, most likely. The two had had many such talks in the three months Spock had been gone, usually after viewing his holovid letters. They had been coming as regularly as clockwork every week to the day from the one-month anniversary of Christine's death.

"What brings you here, Jim?" McCoy asked. "You should be asleep."

"A doctor to the end," the Captain observed wryly. "As for what brings me here..." His voice trailed off. "Same old thing -- our mutual friend." Kirk sat down in the offered chair.

"Saurian brandy?" the Doctor asked.

"Please," Kirk said.

McCoy went into the adjoining room and retrieved his snifter of Saurian brandy which he kept in a cabinet there (for "medicinal purposes," of course). He poured a glass for himself and Kirk, then carried both glasses and the snifter back to where the Captain waited.

"There you go, Jim," McCoy said, handing Kirk a glass before reseating himself with his own, the snifter on his desk at his right elbow.

The Captain was convinced that Spock was still mourning his wife. He carefully avoided any mention of her, concentrating on the work he was doing at the Science Academy and updates on little T'Mara, now just over six months old.

"Got another communique from Amanda?" the Chief Surgeon wondered.

It was Spock's mother who told them of the time she had caught Spock cradling one of Christine's shortie nightgowns against his cheek and crying. Either that or he held it in his arms as he slept -- the only way he _could_ sleep, according to Amanda. He also kept a rose-musk scent in the air of his private rooms, even carrying a perfume-scented hanky with him during his days at the Academy, putting it to his face and inhaling whenever he was alone... or so she deduced.

Of course, Spock always appeared emotionless and dry-eyed outside of his bedroom -- except when with little T'Mara, which was virtually every moment he wasn't working or sleeping. Amanda had even caught him holding his child close in his arms and tenderly kissing her small head before pressing his wet cheek to it. She also told them that Spock had confessed to seeing Christine every time he closed his eyes -- that the pain of losing her, their severed bond, was like an open wound. Most of all, however, that he had vowed never to marry again.

This revelation troubled his friends greatly, even though McCoy had observed that the Vulcan's actions were fairly typical of a man who has lost his wife to death. The Doctor thought it best that the cycle of grief and healing run its course. It was the only chance Spock had of returning to the Enterprise even halfway himself.

Amanda was pleased at the newfound closeness between herself and her son, reporting that Spock had even had a comforting and uplifting discussion with Sarek. Kirk marveled at this, especially when he recalled the painful 18-year estrangement between Spock and his father. Not to mention the fact that Sarek's treatment of his son had been anything _but_ comforting or uplifting. In fact, it had bordered on emotional abuse. McCoy pointed out that Spock's parents would eventually face this same situation, so the discussion just may have proved beneficial for them both. The older man might have actually gotten some advice from his son for a change.

"No, I've just been thinking over the last one," Kirk sighed dubiously. "Bones, do you think he's ever going to get over her?"

The Doctor shrugged.

"I don't know, Jim. Probably not entirely, especially considering the guilt he's probably harboring over the way he treated Chris before they fell in love and married. On the other hand, I _do_ think he'll be able to put his grief behind him eventually and get on with his life as she wanted him to. As Amanda said, time's a great healer. He may even remarry someday -- and I hope he does. Not only for T'Mara's sake, but his own. After all, he needs someone to love and be loved by, not simply a mother for his daughter or someone to help him through the _pon farr_."

It wasn't as though Amanda was betraying any confidences or telling Kirk and McCoy anything they didn't already know. If anyone was surprised, it was Amanda herself; she hadn't seen Spock so emotional since he was a child. The Captain and Doctor had seen him shed tears as an adult several times -- during the Psi 2000 incident, the mind-control on Platonius, and the V'ger affair. Amanda's so-called "revelations" were old news to her son's two closest friends, but they still welcomed her regular updates on Spock's condition (both physical and emotional). Things he rarely, if ever, mentioned nowadays... at least about himself.

As for the loss of his older half-brother on the "God" planet not too long ago, they were unsure if the younger Vulcan had shed private tears for his brother or not. It wouldn't have surprised them if he had, though, considering what he had said when they discovered him crying for V'ger. "I weep for V'ger as I would for a brother..."

One thing they could both be thankful for -- Spock was unlikely to will himself to die now that the critical period had passed. Hopefully he had finally realized that he had to go on living, if only to immerse himself in work and the care of his small daughter. Spock's two closest friends had no doubts that this ordeal would be the hardest thing the Vulcan had ever faced... but another thing they were certain of -- he would win in the end.

Four and a half months after his arrival on Vulcan, Spock was in his room writing another stargram to his friends. Coming here had indeed been of benefit to him; the effort necessary to maintain an emotionless front to the world outside his bedroom door had given him a lot of the emotional discipline he needed in order to control his grief. But not even his work here, Mother, and T'Mara could replace Jim and the Doctor.

He missed the private talks with Kirk, his smile and laughter (McCoy's too) -- not  
to mention the chess games with Jim and good-natured arguments with the Doctor. They were so right; only by being separated from them could he truly realize how much they meant to him. Since Christine's death, he had become even closer to them, and was immensely pleased that so far nothing had happened to them... fervently hoping that nothing ever would. He could not have endured that, not on top of losing Christine.

He had requested that T'Mara spend time with him in his room each day. As a result, father and daughter shared many happy hours alone together. She would smile and laugh when he "played" with her; his heart ached with both love for her and deep sorrow. There had even been occasions when Amanda discovered her son holding his small daughter in his arms, both of them sound asleep... other times Spock would sing T'Mara to sleep, crooning lullabies from both Vulcan and Earth while playing on his harp. Occasionally he would even hold his child and rock her while singing her to sleep. He was bonding very well with her.

Her smile was identical to Christine's, as was her nose and the shape of her mouth. The rest of her features were pure Vulcan. Her hair had darkened somewhat from the brownish-blonde it had been the first three months of her life; his mother had told him that that was from her side of the family, and that it was unlikely to get much darker. (It was a sort of dark golden brown.)

At the moment, the child was sleeping on Spock's bed. He kept a watchful eye on her, alternating his attention between the stargram and his daughter, but moments later he stopped writing and went over to his bed, leaning down to kiss her forehead before getting down on his knees beside it.

_My precious child,_ he thought as he gazed upon the tiny sleeping face. _How thankful I am for your existence. You are one of the few reasons I have left  
for living since your mother was taken from me... us._

He reached a hand to stroke her baby-soft cheek, then her silky hair before fluffing the pillows behind her and resting his free hand lightly on her back. _It is unfortunate that you will never know her love and devotion as I have, even though I shall do my utmost to compensate for her absence. Other than you, the ability to show my feelings to those I care about is the greatest legacy she could have left to me._ _I have learned to accept her death, but will always mourn her loss -- not only for your sake, but my own. _

_It will be a relief when you are old enough to speak and understand conversation. Only then will I be able to speak of your mother, all we knew and shared. I shall also show you her holograph, point out how much you resemble her, both in looks and actions... as well as relate to you how happy she was when you were born. I shall also mind-meld with you at the proper time so that we may share a mental bond as well as the emotional one we now share._

He wished that the child could have known and understood his feelings right now, but would simply have to bide his time. After kissing her again, he stood up and returned to the stargram; moments later there was a quiet knock on his door.

"Come in," he said.

Amanda stepped in, a smile on her lips. Spock allowed himself to return it.

The older woman noted the stylus and Starfleet stationery on the desk and quietly commented, ever mindful of the sleeping child, "Another stargram to the Captain  
and Doctor?"

"Indeed," her son confirmed. "I have needed the time here with you and T'Mara, but still miss being with them. We have shared much together over the years, and am certain that we will always remain friends, whatever else happens in our lives. No matter how close you and I may be, there are matters which I can discuss only with them -- but that is simply because they are men as I am, not because of any lack of yours. I will always appreciate, and never forget, all you have done for me, given me..." His voice trailed off and his gaze once again rested on his daughter. "T'Mara, too."

Amanda touched his cheek and smiled. "You are my son, Spock, my own dear child. T'Mara is your child -- my most cherished grandchild. I am honored and privileged to have been, and be, your mother... and grandmother to T'Mara." She reached to stroke her son's silky dark hair, prompting another rare smile from him and his raising her free hand to his lips to kiss it.

"No. It is I who am the fortunate one, to have been granted a mother such as you."

Amanda bowed her head, smiling even as her cheeks flushed modestly. "I only wish Christine could be here with us. It is -- incomplete, somehow -- without her."

This time Spock did not reply, merely bowed his head and closed his eyes, lips grimly set.

Amanda was instantly contrite, and said as much. "Oh Spock, I'm sorry. I forgot myself."

He lifted his head with a half-smile. "It is all right. I can handle it now."

It was at this point that Sarek quietly approached his son's room. His original intention had been to inquire after his granddaughter's well-being, but his sensitive ears couldn't help but catch the conversation between Spock and Amanda. For Spock's sake, he was pleased that mother and son had grown closer during the latter's stay, even though a part of him wished (even though he knew wishing was illogical) that he and Spock could have shared such a relationship. Despite their differences, Sarek had always felt pride and love for his son... but could not have admitted it to him, and probably never would.

Only Amanda knew his true feelings. Hopefully he would do a better job with his grandchild, not make the mistakes with her that had alienated his only son from him. They had had an enlightening conversation not long after Spock had first arrived, but had not spoken privately since -- and Sarek could not blame Spock for his actions. Oh, he was always polite and respectful, ever mindful of Sarek's status as his father, yet they shared little personal time as father and son. Spock had loved him once, Amanda had confided... but she was unsure whether or not he still did.

After all, 18 years of estrangement had left their mark on the younger Vulcan -- and  
it was still not entirely behind them. There were scars on Spock's heart which she doubted would ever heal completely... and even if he had forgiven his father, he would never forget. Even if Spock felt anything resembling affection for his father, the last thing he would do was admit it to him. One rejection had been painful enough. The few times Spock had visited during the 18 years, Sarek was sure, was only to see his mother -- for her sake.

He was also sure that Spock regretted having put her in the unenviable position of being "in the middle," torn between love for both husband and son, but knowing that there was little -- if anything -- she could do to change matters between them. In which case, he would simply have to make the best of it... see that their strained, formally polite relationship did not deteriorate further. He owed it to his family -- particularly small T'Mara -- to remain on speaking, if not affectionate, terms with Spock. It was at this moment that he spoke to his wife as he stood in the doorway  
of their son's room.

"Amanda," he called quietly. "May I have a word with you, my wife?"

Her head jerked up in surprise, then she smiled. "Oh yes, of course, Sarek."

She politely excused herself from Spock to join her husband, automatically lifting her right hand with the appropriate fingers extended to cross with his.

"How is T'Mara?" he asked when she reached him.

"Asleep at the moment -- and fine otherwise, as far as I can tell. Anything more, you'd have to ask Spock."

The older Vulcan shot a glance at his son's desk to see the stylus and Starfleet stationery lying there, deciding to do something which he hoped would please Spock: caring for T'Mara so he could concentrate on finishing the stargram he was obviously writing to his Human friends Kirk and McCoy.

"Is Spock writing his friends again?"

Amanda nodded. "But he hasn't been able to finish because I've been here with him."

"Do you think he would allow us to take charge of T'Mara so he could finish the stargram?"

"I don't know. Let me ask him."

She again excused herself to return to Spock's side and quietly speak to him. Sarek noted his son's frown, then reluctant agreement.

"I can bring her back when you're done, or else you can come out and bring her back here," Amanda assured him.

This set Spock at ease and he gave permission, even though he didn't really want T'Mara to go. His parents had a right to spend time with their grandchild, and it would indeed free him to concentrate on the stargram to Jim and the Doctor. Be that as it may, he still disliked having his daughter out of his sight. He remained silent as Amanda moved to the bed and picked up the child, who was just beginning to wake -- and left with her a short time later. Spock sighed and turned back to the stargram. Well, at least this was something else he could talk to his two friends about...

It was another month and a half, however, before Spock felt ready to return to duty. The pain of his loss was still with him, but over the last several weeks he had learned to deal with it. No longer did he cry every night, though tears still misted his eyes at the thought of his wife, and he still slept with her nightgown in his arms. In addition, the scent of Christine's perfume was only in the hanky he carried; no longer did he permeate his rooms with it. The bottle had in fact been relegated to his bathroom from its usual spot on the nightstand beside his bed. The only thing occupying it now was the holo he had taken of his wife and daughter when T'Mara was a month old.

Even so, he would be taking the aforementioned items with him when he returned to the ship -- though he had told the Captain to have his former quarters prepared for his occupation. Spock had very reluctantly decided to leave small T'Mara, now just over nine months old, with her grandparents. He could not care for her alone, and even if he could, regulations still prohibited crewmembers' children on starships. Of course, if the rumors he had heard had any truth to them, that would soon change... and he would be able to have her with him aboard ship, but until then-- Spock had also admonished his mother to keep him supplied with holographs of his daughter and regular updates on her condition and progress.

Everyone aboard ship was happy to learn that he was returning to duty, Jim had told him in his last stargram. He and his expertise had been sorely missed, though they all understood the necessity of his working through his grief and guilt first. In fact, many had been unsure that Spock would ever return. The Enterprise would pick him up within a week of being notified of his intention to return. Even so, his friends aboard ship couldn't help wondering at his still questionable emotional state... but Dr. McCoy had said that was Spock's own business, even telling Jim not to pressure him.

The Vulcan marveled once again at McCoy's perceptiveness, vowing to show the Doctor how much he appreciated it -- if only in a subtle way. And he would indeed speak of it as soon as he felt able... until then it was good to know that no one would bother him. Getting back into a regular shipboard routine was the best possible therapy for him. Their next task after picking him up would be to go to Starbase 11 and pick up a dozen new crewmembers.

Spock was presently unaware of the fact that one of them would be Lieutenant T'Christa D'Amaro, a half-Vulcan woman who was the daughter of a Starfleet Admiral and who would be a junior bioresearcher in his Sciences Department --  
and his new love.

James Kirk had never seen a week go by so slowly. He was frankly ready to climb the wall, so anxious was he to see Spock again. It seemed forever before he was told that they were in orbit around Vulcan. Uhura put in a call to Spock's family home; Spock himself answered.

"Ambassador Sarek's residence. This is Spock."

"Mr. Spock, how good it is to hear your voice again. How are you?" The Communications Chief couldn't hide her pleasure.

"I am well, Miss Uhura. I am also ready to beam up."

Uhura seemed not to hear him. "How is little T'Mara? I've missed her."

"Healthy and beautiful, thank you." The Vulcan couldn't help a smile at Uhura's so typically female way of seeming to ignore his earlier statement in order to ask about his daughter. "I believe she has missed you as well."

The dark woman felt her cheeks warm with pleasure. "Thank you, Mr. Spock. As I said six months ago, it was a privilege to care for her."

"May I beam up now?" he repeated, making sure he had all his belongings ready. He allowed himself to smile at his mother, who was standing a few feet away, holding T'Mara in her arms. (He had hugged and kissed his child goodbye in private 15 minutes ago... as well as said his private farewells to his mother. Sarek had departed for the Science Academy twenty minutes ago after making his own farewells.)

"Oh yes, of course," Uhura apologized. "I'll notify the Transporter Room right away."

Kirk gave Chekov the con and notified McCoy that Spock was due to arrive at  
any moment. The Chief Surgeon left M'Benga in charge of Sickbay, arriving in the Transporter Room at almost the same time as the Captain did -- just as the Vulcan was stepping off the platform.

"Spock," Kirk said with a smile and salute in his friend's direction after dismissing the transporter operator. "It's good to have you back."

"It is good to _be_ back, Captain... Jim." In the next surprising moment, Spock gave his Human friend a warm embrace. "I am pleased that you have remained well these last six months, my friend," he said upon releasing Kirk. He turned to the surprised McCoy. "The same applies to you, Doctor." He then enfolded his second-best friend in a warm hug, which the dumfounded Chief Surgeon tentatively returned.

"Y-you crazy Vulcan." The Doctor's voice was shaky because of Spock's unusual (and unexpected) displays of affection. "You've gone soft on me!"

"Negative, Doctor. I have simply come to the quite logical conclusion that I should show my appreciation for all that you and Jim have been to -- and done for -- me," came the coolly dignified reply, reminiscent of the insufferably logical Vulcan McCoy remembered.

"I'd like for us to have a good long talk, Spock... as soon as you're ready, that is," Kirk added upon receiving a hard look from McCoy.

"Of course," was the agreeable reply as the Vulcan turned to pick up his luggage. His two friends stepped up to assist, the three soon reaching the doors of the Transporter Room.

"Now let's get you settled back in, Mister," Kirk said. "I've got you scheduled to resume duty at 0600 tomorrow." The Captain's voice and manner once again befitted the commander of the Enterprise.

"A most logical course of action, Captain," the newly returned First Officer replied as the trio headed for a turbolift which would take them to E Deck and Spock's original quarters adjoining Kirk's. The quarters he had shared with his wife and child had been on D Deck.

Three days later the Enterprise arrived at Starbase 11 to pick up the new crewmembers. By the time Kirk got to the Transporter Room, one group had already beamed up and gone to Sickbay for their preliminary physicals. He called and told McCoy to have them report to him upon completion of the physicals. According to the Transporter Chief, the new crew was a conglomeration of races: predominantly Human, but there were some Vulcans, Tellarites, Andorians and Rigellians thrown in.

Kirk noted that two in the second group were Vulcans -- no doubt earmarked for positions in Spock's Sciences Department. One was male, the other female. The Captain greeted the others and sent them on their way, then turned toward the Vulcans, fingers positioned in the traditional salute.

"Welcome aboard the Enterprise," he said with a smile. "I'm Captain James T. Kirk."

"Thank you, Captain. I am Dr. Sokar, astrobiologist. My companion is T'Christa D'Amaro, exobiologist." The older Vulcan male jerked his head in the latter's direction upon returning the salute.

"Hello, Captain," she said, shocking him by smiling and extending her hand. "I have always wanted to meet you."

Kirk was so flustered that it was all he could do not to stutter. "Thank you, Lieutenant. I'm sure you and Dr. Sokar will prove to be welcome additions to my crew."

Kirk couldn't remember ever having felt like this in the presence of a woman -- particularly a Vulcan woman. It wasn't simply because she was beautiful; he had known many beautiful women. Beauty didn't always mean honesty and integrity. All too often a pretty face concealed duplicity and evil. The witch Sylvia on Pyris VII was a prime example.

Not to mention Spock's former bondmate T'Pring. Her name called to mind her beautiful face -- but it was a cold, antiseptic type of beauty. That flint-hearted bitch... how could she have been so beautiful and yet so treacherous, two-faced and calculating? Worst of all, she had nearly gotten him killed by forcing Spock to fight him while his friend was deep in the "plak tow," or blood-fever, due to his first _pon farr._

And if that wasn't bad enough, Spock had been caused needless anguish by being made to think that he had killed his closest friend and commanding officer. Kirk shuddered at the memory of how close that had come to literally being true. If it hadn't been for Bones, he would have been, and Spock... He didn't care to even speculate on what the Vulcan might have done had he, Kirk, truly been killed.

Kirk truly hoped that T'Christa D'Amaro wasn't another T'Pring in disguise -- or anything like that Lt. Valeris they had had recently. In the meantime, he would keep  
a sharp eye on her until she had proved herself. It would devastate Spock to have something like that happen again, particularly when Lt. D'Amaro looked so much  
like Christine... That was when it hit him.

That was what had rattled him! It was as though Christine had been reborn as a Vulcan; T'Christa D'Amaro was the image of Spock's lost wife. And if _he_ could have this kind of reaction, how would Bones and Spock feel when they saw her? Spock had been showing signs of returning to normal in the few days he had been back, but T'Christa D'Amaro could easily knock him right back to where he had been when he had departed the Enterprise a month after Christine's death. It was T'Christa who brought him back to reality.

"Should we not go to Sickbay for our physicals, Captain?" She flashed another devastating smile and gestured toward Sokar. "I also want to meet your second-in-command, Commander -- or is it Captain now? -- Spock. He is a legend among our people with his extraordinary accomplishments, particularly his work negotiating the Klingon/Federation peace treaty."

"Of…of course. Go to Sickbay, by all means," Kirk forced out. "And don't worry, Lieutenant. I will contact Mr. Spock and have him come meet you at the earliest opportunity."

The female Vulcan nodded in Kirk's direction. "Thank you, Captain. I will be looking forward to it." She and Sokar disappeared through the Transporter Room doors; Kirk followed moments later, prompting a funny look from the Transporter Chief when he all but stumbled out the door. He then headed down the corridor to the nearest intercom to contact Spock.

The Vulcan met the Captain at the Sickbay doors. Spock was ready to go inside immediately, but Kirk's hand stopped him.

"I think I'd better warn you, Spock," he said cryptically.

An upswept eyebrow lifted. "Why?"

"The Vulcan woman..." Kirk began, cut off when Spock's eyes stabbed right through him. "She--"

"Kindly explain yourself, Jim. Why do you feel it necessary to 'warn' me about this woman? Is there something unusual about her?"

"You -- could say that." Kirk felt as though his tongue had been tied in knots. It was all he could do to utter a coherent syllable, much less an understandable sentence.

"Even so, I am sure I can handle it. After all, I am a Vulcan."

"But, Spock..." Kirk barely got the words out before realizing the Vulcan was already gone. _Well, I tried to warn him,_ the Captain told himself. _I can only hope  
it doesn't hit him too hard. Otherwise we'll be knocked right back to square one._

Spock was already standing in the doorway of the examination room. McCoy's back was to him, his body partially hiding one of the two Vulcans who had just joined the crew. Beyond, he saw the other, male, Vulcan come out of the dressing room. He adjusted the jacket of the newly acquired Fleet uniform, only raising his head upon reaching the foot of the bed where the Chief Surgeon was examining the female Vulcan whose face Spock couldn't see.

"Mr. Spock? I am Dr. Sokar, astrobiologist. I have admired you for some years and am looking forward to working closely with you." Sokar raised his hand in salute, as did Spock.

"Thank you, Dr. Sokar. I am sure we will work well together."

McCoy looked up upon hearing Spock's voice. He had been just as shook up over meeting T'Christa D'Amaro as Jim had been, stunned at her uncanny resemblance to Christine. How would Spock react when he saw her?

"Oh Spock, I didn't hear you come in. I see you've already met Dr. Sokar. Just what I need, two more Vulcans to drive me crazy. As if one wasn't enough," the Doctor groused, suddenly becoming aware of Spock's movements so as to see the female Vulcan on the diagnostic bed. "Uh -- Spock, I don't think you should..."

McCoy's voice trailed off as he realized that his warning came a moment too late. Spock was already standing at the head of the diagnostic bed, taking in a full view  
of the woman both of his friends had tried to warn him about.

Spock now understood Jim and McCoy's warnings. This woman was a virtual twin of Christine, the differences minor but obvious. Her ears were small and perfectly shaped (and pointed, of course). Her brows were delicately upswept and gold-flecked brown eyes boasted long, dark and thick lashes. As for her lips... suffice it  
to say that they defied description.

The Vulcan brought himself up short as he fought an almost irresistible urge to sweep this beautiful creature who so resembled his lost wife into his arms and lock her away where no one could see her -- keep her for himself alone. She was definitely _not_ going to be good for his peace of mind, not when she could make him feel like this on such short acquaintance.. Spock found his knees going weak and had to hang onto the bed to conceal it from McCoy -- but the blood had also left his face, something he couldn't conceal.

"Spock, you all right? You look pale. I knew we shouldn't have let you see her without preparing you first." The Doctor sounded apologetic.

Spock barely heard McCoy's words. He was lost in thought, marveling at this woman's resemblance to his wife as well as her name, which could almost have been a Vulcan version of Christine's. It was as though the gods had taken Christine away, then returned her in the body of a Vulcan woman. Despite his feelings, however, Spock felt disloyal at even considering someone new when Christine had only been gone seven point three months. He frankly wasn't ready to replace Christine yet, not with T'Christa D'Amaro or anyone else -- not for a long time to come. If only she hadn't looked so much like Christine. It would have been so much easier to resist her.

It was a long time before Spock found his voice again. "Illogical, Doctor. She will be working with me, so I have to meet her eventually -- and it might as well be now."

"Well, if you think you can handle it..."

"I appreciate your concern, Doctor -- Jim's, too -- but I am a Vulcan. I will be all right."

McCoy shrugged. "If you say so."

It was at this point that T'Christa opened her eyes and looked up at Spock. She drank in the sight of velvety brown eyes, gracefully upswept brows, cupid's-bow  
lips and beautiful, elegantly pointed ears. She had no idea it was possible for anyone -- particularly one such as her, with her Vulcan blood -- to fall in love at first sight, but it had apparently happened. He was positively gorgeous!

"Lt. D'Amaro? I am Spock, second-in-command of the Enterprise." His voice sounded inane even to his own ears. "Captain Kirk said you wished to meet me."

T'Christa felt a shiver run down her spine at his voice, just as velvety soft and richly masculine as she had ever imagined it would be. She had had a crush on Spock since she was a child. He had been the reason she had never been able to bond with anyone -- but never did she dream that she would ever meet the man she so idolized. Could she dare to hope that she might be affecting _him_ too? No, that was too presumptuous for words...

In addition, would he judge her unfavorably because of the shameful actions of the renegade Lt. Valeris which resulted in the assassination of the Klingon Chancellor Gorkon some months previously? She hoped he would eventually speak of it. She needed to assured him that none of it was his fault -- and most importantly, that she was not Valeris. Also, T'Christa could not bring herself to regret what had happened to her former friend. Valeris had brought on her misfortune by her own actions.

Valeris was a disgrace not only to her race, the pacifistic and logical Vulcans, but her gender... and would spend the rest of her days in a Federation rehab colony. She was as dead to her family as if she had never existed. She and her fellow conspirators (one high up in Starfleet), the others Gorkon's own Chief of Staff and the Romulan Ambassador, had nearly caused a war and Spock's friends Captain Kirk and Dr. McCoy had been unjustly imprisoned for the Chancellor's murder.

Spock had been instrumental in bringing the Federation and Klingon Empire together for peace talks in the first place -- and no doubt still harbored guilt for having trusted Valeris when she was unworthy of his trust or high regard. It wasn't his fault he had been taken in by her clever facade. Many others had, only finding out her true nature after they had been ruined, either emotionally, politically or financially. She had even managed to fool Starfleet Academy...

Only the actions of a newly freed Captain Kirk and crew had set things right again. Thankfully Valeris and her co-conspirators had been caught before the Federation President and other important dignitaries could be harmed -- including Vulcan Ambassador Sarek, Spock's own father. T'Christa was pleased that the plot to kill those at Camp Khitomer and keep the Federation and Klingons at each other's throats had failed.

The new chancellor, Gorkon's daughter, had been so grateful that she had dropped charges against the Captain and Doctor. The conspirators (with the exception of General Chang, who had been killed) had been tried and court-martialed, losing  
both rank and position for their crimes as well as being imprisoned. Thank goodness justice had been served and Gorkon had not died in vain...

"That's right," she managed to say, hoping it was the right thing because she had been so preoccupied. Consequently she had no idea that her smile could have affected Spock as it had -- sending his pulse rate into orbit, something which hadn't happened since his marriage to Christine. "And I am very much looking forward to working with you, Mr. Spock."

Spock was embarrassed to feel blood rushing to his face. "Thank you, Lieutenant. I am flattered by your high regard for me."

"I have... held you in high regard since I was a child," she confessed, deciding not to mention the fact that she had been unable to bond because of him. If they became involved, she could tell him then. No need to burden him with such knowledge now.

It was only now that Spock realized how young she really was. Young enough to have been his daughter, had he married at age 35 as intended -- but strangest of all was the fact that he didn't care. He wasn't reacting to her as a daughter, but as a woman. A very desirable woman. Christine would always have a special place in his heart, as befitted the mother of his first child… and he treasured their all-too-brief marriage and life together, but life had to go on. She would want him to be happy, not mourn her for the rest of his life.

Even so, this was not the right time to let T'Christa know how she was making him feel. The most logical thing to do was keep a respectful distance -- not treat her as anything more than a colleague, no matter how difficult that might prove to be. If the way her nearness was making him feel right now was any indication, that would prove to be very difficult, indeed...

"I must return to my work now, Lieutenant. It was -- nice meeting you." He moved to the safety of the door.

"Thank you for coming, Mr. Spock," she smiled, once again making his pulse race.  
"I hope I -- see you again soon."

But even as Spock headed back to the Bridge, he could not get T'Christa D'Amaro off his mind. What was it that made her so ... unforgettable? He was also curious as to why she had joined Starfleet -- and whether or not she had known the renegade Lt. Valeris. Valeris, a one-time helmsman for the Enterprise, had been his new protegée. He had even been grooming her to step into his position as Science Officer... but unknown to him, she had also been part of a plot to kill all the diplomats at the Khitomer peace conference, including the new Chancellor Azetbur, the slain Gorkon's daughter -- and his own father, Vulcan Ambassador Sarek.

How could he ever have been so taken in by Valeris? What could have so twisted her logical mind that she would be party to such a monstrous thing? She had even killed Gorkon's assassins as well as conspired with Admiral Cartwright, General Chang (Gorkon's Chief of Staff) and the Romulan Ambassador.

She had even eavesdropped on Captain Kirk recording his Personal Log, as well  
as the conversation between himself and Jim after the secret meeting at Fleet Headquarters. He had said, "They're dying," referring to the Klingons after the decimation of their moon and key energy production facility, Praxis. The Captain  
had said, "Let them die."

He had wondered where the excerpt from Jim's Personal Log had come from; now he knew. Not to mention what Lt. Valeris had said once she had been found out --  
" 'Let them die,' you said. Did I misinterpret you?"

She could not have known what had been said otherwise. It came as no surprise that the Klingons had found Jim and the Doctor guilty with such damning evidence, even  
if it was entirely circumstantial, as their lawyer Colonel Worf had pointed out. Ironic that the only ones who knew of the plot were themselves considered criminals, as well as the fact that the ones who knew where the peace conference was being held were the very ones who planned to kill everyone there. Spock had learned the hard way never to trust anyone again unless they had proven themselves worthy first. He would not make that mistake again. The last time had nearly gotten Jim and the Doctor killed.

To get back to T'Christa, she acted Human, but looked Vulcan. Was it possible that she was half-Human, as he was? That would explain much, but he had never known a half-Vulcan woman, so he had no idea how one would act. Perhaps the gender of their Vulcan parents had been reversed. Maybe it was her mother who was Vulcan and her father Human... He would have speculated further, but the turbolift had reached the Bridge. He needed a few moments to compose himself before he could face Jim and the others.

T'Christa had first learned of Spock through her father, who had once been second-in-command on one of the Enterprise's sister ships, the Excalibur. That is, once it  
had been rebuilt and new crew chosen after the M-5 incident. She had never seen pictures of him, but Lenardo D'Amaro had described the Vulcan in detail. The information had been garnered from both his own experiences and what he learned from those actually acquainted with the legendary Vulcan.

In addition, her mother had been a classmate of Spock's and had memories of her own to share. She had considered him too emotional for her taste, but at the same time, gentle, polite, and reserved -- which was why her sympathies had been with him when others tormented him about his mixed heritage. These qualities had also been part of the reason she married Lenardo D'Amaro, as Sarek had married Amanda Grayson. She had written down all her parents told her, forming a mental image of what Spock must be like. He was also the reason she studied so diligently  
at Starfleet Academy -- hoping she would one day be assigned to the Enterprise.

As she neared the proper age, her parents had had many "discussions" over whether or not she should bond. Several likely candidates had even been met and interviewed, but in the end were politely rejected -- and only recently had T'Christa realized why. None were Spock. Strangest of all was the fact that she didn't simply want someone _like _him, she wanted _him_ -- and even though intellectually she knew that she was unlikely to ever meet him, much less become romantically involved with him, her desire (not to mention her feelings) did not change. In fact, they grew with every passing day.

It hurt to hear of his marriage to a Terran woman, as his father had, but she could only wish him happiness, especially when he and his Human wife had had a daughter scarcely a year after their marriage. She hadn't thought that possible for a Vulcan until her mother said that there was a possibility that Spock's mixed blood had made him an exception to the rule. She had also heard of the fiasco with his original bondmate T'Pring, who had challenged him at what was to have been their wedding, rejecting him for a full-blooded Vulcan and forcing him to fight Captain Kirk. For that reason many years had passed before Spock allowed himself to feel anything for a woman beyond comradeship or casual friendship.

Feeling as she did, T'Christa naturally questioned T'Pring's taste as well as her sanity. After all, Spock's bloodline was one of the oldest and most respected -- Sarek was a direct descendant of Surak, the bringer of peace and logic -- and the family quite well-to-do. In addition, Spock himself had a considerable inheritance, though she didn't know just what it entailed. Then his own accomplishments on top of that... Perhaps the difference lay in the fact that T'Pring had been a full-blooded Vulcan and she herself was half-Human, like Spock.

The beginning of the relationship was somewhat similar to the one with Christine, but in this instance Spock had been instantly attracted and extremely hard-pressed to conceal it. Even so, the last thing he intended to do was let her know -- until the proper time.

Over time, Spock found that she was as almost as tall as he was... and his first instinct had been right. She was indeed half-Human. Her father was Lenardo D'Amaro, a Starfleet Admiral, and her mother was T'Ayana, a female Vulcan who had once been a classmate of his, serving as her husband's administrative assistant. Spock wasn't sure what nationality Lenardo D'Amaro was, but that didn't really matter at this point.

He also learned that her father had wanted her to have a Human name, but her mother insisted on a Vulcan name -- one of the few times she didn't defer to her husband, as most Vulcan women did. Of course, when it came right down to it, who could understand him and his moods better than someone who was just like him?

After six weeks he started writing his parents about her. Amanda smiled to herself upon reading her son's latest stargram, knowing she had been right. Spock was again falling in love, even if it was with a Vulcan version of Christine. The girl even had the same specialty -- exobiology!

She and Sarek had liked Christine immensely, particularly for her devotion to Spock, not to mention the beautiful little daughter she had borne him. T'Mara was now over ten months old and looking more like her mother every day. As promised, Amanda kept Spock up-to-date on his daughter, sending holographs every month. The latest one Spock kept on his desk in his quarters, accompanying the one with Christine.

He had even found a wedding picture of himself and Christine when going through her things after her death, deciding to keep it as another memento of their short but happy life together. It sat on his desk in his quarters as well. The others went into his holograph album. He also kept all the holovid letters relating T'Mara's condition and progress.

He was now able to sleep without the nightgown, though he did keep the perfume-scented hanky on his pillow instead of carrying it. He could meditate as before, and had long ago regained his appetite. He rarely cried anymore, though his heart still ached at the thought of his lost wife... and only occasionally had he found a lump in his throat and tears misting his eyes. Perhaps he was finally beginning to put his grief and guilt behind him and get on with his life. He hoped that that was the case, anyway.

As for T'Christa, things weren't exactly a bed of roses for her, either. She had tried everything she could think of to get Spock to notice her, but even after six weeks he still treated her with nothing but professional courtesy. She was ready to climb the wall. She wanted to feel his arms around her, his kisses on her lips... Oh, God! How much longer could she stand this?

T'Christa prayed he was not keeping his distance because of what Valeris had done. She couldn't have stood that, though she did understand his hesitation to trust again. Even so, she had done all she could to prove herself worthy. If he didn't know it now, he never would. Not only of his trust, but his love. She was certain that she could mend Spock's broken heart, make him happy again -- if he would only give her half a chance!

There was one option. She had been told that the Captain and Dr. McCoy were Spock's closest friends. Perhaps if she talked with one of them, he could talk some sense into him. It eventually reached the point where she called on McCoy, asking to speak privately with him.

The Chief Surgeon was pretty sure that he knew what the attractive young Vulcan exobiologist wanted to talk to him about. Spock. He had noticed the way she'd looked at him when he'd come to visit her -- like a hungry cat at a mouse. Spock hadn't exactly looked unmoved, either. Hell, how could he _not _have been affected, with T'Christa a virtual twin of Christine?

His head lifted at the sound of the door buzzer.

"Come," he said, smiling upon seeing T'Christa enter. "Hello, Lieutenant. What can I do for you?"

"I must speak with you, Doctor," she said urgently, coming right to the point.

"Of course, my dear. Have a seat." The words were barely out of McCoy's mouth before she was seated in the chair opposite him. "Now what's on your mind?"

"Spock," she confessed.

"What about him?" McCoy didn't change expression.

"I -- believe I am in love with him."

McCoy had to smile. Who said history didn't repeat itself? He had been through a scene very similar to this one not long after Chris had joined the crew. She had also confessed her love for the Vulcan and asked his advice. Now he was going to give T'Christa D'Amaro pretty much the same advice. "I see. Well, the best thing to do  
is not to pressure him. Aggressiveness drives him further away."

"Doctor, is something wrong with me? Am I so unattractive that Spock wants nothing to do with me beyond a professional relationship? I have done all I possibly can to prove myself worthy, in an attempt to make up for Valeris's shameful behavior. Do you think he might be hesitant to trust me because of that?"

McCoy nodded thoughtfully. "That could have something to do with it, but there's more to it than that. Spock recently lost his wife, and it's taking longer than expected for him to put his grief behind him. Because of that, he is still not ready for a new love. Friendship is all he can handle at the moment. Anything more at this point scares the hell out of him."

"But how can I be just his friend, feeling as I do about him?"

The Doctor reached to rest a comforting hand over T'Christa's clasped ones resting on his desk. "Love is never easy, dear, especially when one is in love with a Vulcan  
-- or a Vulcan in love. Too bad you can't sit down and talk with the other women who have loved him, especially Christine."

T'Christa's brows shot up. "Christine?"

"His wife. She loved him for years, but Spock hardly gave her the time of day until about 18 months ago. That was when he seemed to have a complete change of heart toward her. Not long after that, he bonded with and married her. They had a child, a beautiful little daughter, but Christine died when she was just three and a half months old. Some kind of rare disease we were unable to treat.

"It really hit Spock hard to lose her so soon. As a result, he left the ship a month after her death, taking their daughter with him, and went home to Vulcan for six months to get his head and heart together, He had only been back a few days when you came aboard. All this on top of that murder and conspiracy business. He's having a hard time dealing with it all. Give him time."

"I -- am told that you are a close friend of his."

"That's right... though the Captain is closer to him than I am. Why?"

"Do you think you could speak with him, see if you could find out whether or not he has any -- feelings for me?"

McCoy sighed. "He's pretty tight-lipped, especially about his personal life or private feelings. In addition, he rarely -- if ever -- listens to me... but I suppose I could try."

"Would you? I would appreciate it."

There was such pleading in the gold-flecked brown eyes that McCoy was unable to refuse her. Even so, he was dubious about the possibility of learning anything which could be useful to a girl in love. "I can't make any guarantees," the Doctor warned. "It's usually like pulling teeth to get Spock to talk about anything personal, being that he's a Vulcan."

"I am Vulcan, and I do." T'Christa was almost indignant.

"You are also female. Men are usually taught to hide their feelings, Vulcan or not.  
In addition, a man in Spock's position, with a motherless child to consider, doesn't think of a woman as simply a mate for himself. He's looking for a second mother for his child. I also believe that he would like to find someone as much like Christine as possible."

"But I am not Christine, however much I may look or act like her."

McCoy chuckled. "Of course, knowing Spock, it'll take a while for that to sink in. You'll just have to bear with him."

T'Christa became almost wistful at the thought of little T'Mara, Spock's child. "I am sure I would be a good mother to his little girl, as well as a good wife to him -- if he would only give me a chance!"

"As I said earlier, my dear, give him time. I know it's difficult, but it's the only way to get him... and I know you want to."

Spock's feelings for T'Christa eventually became such that he was obliged to contact Kirk and arrange a private meeting with him. Kirk was only too glad to comply, willing to help his Vulcan friend in any way he could. Being Human, he had suspected all along that Spock was again falling in love, but was unwilling to admit it because he considered it disloyal to Christine. The meeting was to take place in the Vulcan's quarters; the Captain showed up at 2230 hours. Spock was sitting on his bed waiting in the sleeping alcove when his Human friend arrived.

"Spock?"

"In here, Jim," came the reply.

"I'm here as you requested. What do you need to talk about?"

"I think you already know." The Vulcan's voice was quiet, his statement evasive as his dark head bowed in embarrassment. However, Kirk was silent, so Spock was forced to explain himself. "It -- concerns the... new woman in my life."

Kirk nodded and sat down beside the Vulcan on his bed. "I assume you mean T'Christa D'Amaro. She's half-Vulcan too, right?"

Spock responded with a barely noticeable nod.

"Did she know Lt. Valeris in any way?"

"They were friends -- but T'Christa is appalled by Valeris's actions."

"What else concerns you about her, Spock?"

"Jim, I -- believe... I am -- in love with her."

Kirk wasn't a bit surprised. "I see." For a long time neither spoke, then the Captain did. "But--?"

"I feel... that I am -- being disloyal to Christine."

Kirk smiled and nodded understandingly. "Of course you do. She was your wife, the mother of your child. That's natural -- but at the same time, it would be illogical to mourn her for the rest of your life when you have been offered a second chance for happiness. Second chances are rare in life. Don't let this one pass you by. Which reminds me -- does T'Christa know how you feel about her?"

"No, she does not."

"Then I suggest you contact her. That is, as soon as you find out how she feels about you."

"I believe -- I already know. She has... demonstrated evidence of -- romantic feelings for me on several occasions."

"In that case, you're halfway home. Go for it."

"Go for it?" Spock frowned uncomprehendingly.

"Go to her. Tell her." Kirk smiled, prompting an all-too-rare response in kind from his alien friend.

"I believe I will. Thank you, Jim."

"That's what friends are for." The two then did something they had rarely done up to this point -- they embraced.

The following evening the Doctor came to Spock's quarters, steeling himself for the higher temperature before pressing the door buzzer.

"Come," Spock said.

McCoy entered to find the Vulcan sitting cross-legged on his bed in a soft, cream-colored robe playing his Vulcan harp.

"Dr. McCoy," Spock acknowledged. "Won't you sit down?"

"Thank you." McCoy came into the sleeping alcove and seated himself on the bed. "Spock, I need to talk to you."

"About what?"

"T'Christa D'Amaro."

It was all Spock could do to keep an impassive face. "What about her?" For once coolness came hard.

"Spock, that girl's in love with you. It's as plain as the nose on your face."

"I am -- aware of her feelings, Doctor."

"What are you going to do about it?"

Spock sighed and set his harp aside, folding his hands in his lap. "I can do... nothing at the moment. I am -- not ready for a new romance... or another marriage." The tone of the Vulcan's voice prompted the Doctor to place a comforting hand on his shoulder and speak as gently as he could.

"Have you told her this?" Even as McCoy asked the question, he knew the answer, but asked anyway.

"I have been... unable to do so," Spock quietly confessed.

"Why? Do you have feelings for her too?"

A long, awkward silence passed between them, a silence thick enough to cut, before Spock spoke again.

"Doctor, do you really think my feelings are any concern of yours? Whether you realize it or not, you are coming very close to invading my privacy."

"Of course they're my concern. I care about you as much as Jim does. I just show it differently." The Chief Surgeon sighed and continued. "But I'm not only here on your account. T'Christa wanted me to find out whether or not you had any feelings for her. She's as proudly Vulcan as you are, so the last thing she would do is broadcast her feelings -- particularly not to you -- except as a last resort. You Vulcans are so damn close-mouthed that you need help whenever it becomes necessary to express your feelings. I assume you've already talked with Jim?"

Spock nodded.

"In that case, I suppose I'm out of line just being here, much less talking to you like this -- but T'Christa was reluctant to approach Jim. I was more accessible to her... not to mention the fact that she heard I was also a friend of yours. Don't worry, I'm not asking for the gory details. All I want is a simple yes or no."

"Yes," Spock finally said, voice barely audible.

"Then for God's sake, tell her! She thinks you can't stand her, that you're judging her because of Valeris's actions."

Spock frowned. "That is preposterous. As for the other matter, I... regret hurting her, but as I said, I am not -- ready for another romance or marriage."

"Hell's fire, Spock, who's talking about marriage? There's plenty of time for that later. For now, just talk and get to know each other as you did with Christine. _Then_ perhaps have a romance." McCoy knew he was walking on dangerous ground talking like this to Spock. On the other hand, even if Spock didn't consider him as much of a friend as he did Jim, he was still a doctor, and logically the Vulcan would know that he could trust him because of his medical oath of confidentiality. The Vulcan gave the Doctor a hard look.

"Only if you really want to, that is. I'm not prescribing or ordering it. It's your life, your decision -- but I _do_ want to go on record as believing that it would be the best possible course of action for both of you."

The First Officer gave his second-best friend a half-smile and nodded. "I will keep that in mind, Doctor."

Barely an hour later another visitor pressed Spock's door buzzer. It was late, nearly 2400, and he had planned to meditate for an hour before retiring -- but that was out of the question now. Especially since he had been thinking so strongly of going to T'Christa's quarters to speak privately with her (and perhaps more), that the hour passed before Spock realized it. The buzzer sounded twice before registering in the Vulcan's computer-like brain.

"Come," he said; the door swished open.

T'Christa D'Amaro stepped in, dressed in a long, blue opaque gown which both revealed and concealed her curves. Her long, dark hair was loose, cascading down her back in multitudes of waves. Most surprising of all, however, was the fact that she had an overnight bag in her hand. "Spock, I need to see you," she said. "There  
is something very important I must discuss with you."

T'Christa's heart pounded as she entered, her knees wobbly and her face flushed. She was taking a chance by coming to Spock's quarters uninvited, particularly carrying an overnight bag. How presumptuous could one get? She could just imagine how her mother would react if she could see her now. She would be considered nothing less than brazen, shameless, indecent. Vulcans never showed their emotions so openly except in privacy -- and then, only to their mates.

Of course, if what Dr. McCoy told her was true, Spock just might be inclined to overlook her behavior instead of lecture her, then throw her out. She had always believed in going after what -- and who -- she wanted, like her father... much to  
her mother's distress. In addition, she could have waited forever if she'd waited for Spock to take the initiative, especially considering what he'd been through in the past several months.

She had already waited over half her life for him; she intended to allow no further delays. If he felt as most Vulcan males did, he would not make the first move anyway. In addition, the last thing he would ever admit to her was that he was even attracted to her, much less in love with her. She had to find out once and for all just where she stood with Spock, even if it was the last thing she ever did.

He gestured to her to join him. "And what may that be?"

She joined him in the sleeping alcove. "You. Me. Us," she said simply.

The Vulcan's heart began pounding even faster than usual. If T'Christa had been difficult to resist before, it was all but impossible to resist her now. Particularly with the musky perfume she wore, one of the few things about her that _wasn't_ identical  
to Christine. Christine's perfume had been both sensual and romantic. T'Christa's was just plain sensual...

Hot blood rushed into Spock's cheeks at the thought of her nearness; he was thankful his loose robe concealed his growing arousal. Of course, how long he could conceal it was a matter for debate, especially if she moved any closer to him. Even now she was within reach, and both his Vulcan and Human halves cried out for union with her.

_Forgive me, Christine, _he told the image in his heart's eye. _But I have been without you, without love, for so long. I... need the mental as well as physical union T'Christa can provide. You have taught me that there is no shame in loving someone or admitting it -- so I intend to do just that, in order to take advantage of the second chance at love which has been offered to me._

"What a coincidence. That is exactly what I wish to speak with you about."

T'Christa's eyes widened. "Spock, are you saying that you--"

"I am."

Spock was somehow not surprised by the fact that he was not at all embarrassed. The time had come for he and T'Christa to come together, but no words could adequately convey what he was feeling for her. This was one of the times that actions spoke louder than words. Spock moved closer to T'Christa and lifted her face to  
his -- then bent his head to gently, tentatively, kiss her. Her lips became hungry and demanding, unwilling to relinquish his. She locked her arms around his neck and pressed close to him.

"Spock..."

"T'Christa..." Her name came out as a moan as her fingers lightly stroked the back of his neck, inflaming his passion as wood feeds a fire. His hands soon found their way to the shoulder ties of her dress and loosened them...

Hours later the lovers came back to earth, snuggled close in each other's arms.

"Spock, you are a marvelous lover. Please say that we will be together always." T'Christa's head was cradled on his shoulder.

"We will be together as long as you wish it." His words were muffled in her fragrant hair.

"Forever. Say it will be forever!" She looked up at him, their eyes meeting with tender passion.

"I have already said it -- and you know something else?" His lips moved to nuzzle  
her ear.

"What?" The warmth of his breath sent shivers down her spine.

"Mother told me this would happen -- but I did not... believe her."

To his surprise, he heard T'Christa laugh. It reminded him of little tinkling bells, but it was something he would not hear outside of their private quarters. "That just goes to show that you should have listened to your mother. Now kiss me good night and go to sleep. We need it after the night we just had."

Within half an hour, both lovers were deeply asleep.

Somehow the two awakened early, around 0515, dressing when 0530 rolled around and leaving his quarters for their duty shifts at 0550 after a lingering kiss and the bonding ritual. They had sat on his bed, Spock's hand on her face in the mind-link position. Gentle pressure and intense concentration soon put the couple into mind-contact.

_T'Christa, my "ainama aisha" (beautiful love),_ Spock's mind spoke. _Are you certain that you are ready for this? Remember, once we are bonded, it will not be broken by anything but death._

_Spock, I have waited all my life for this,_ T'Christa's replied, lovingly embracing his consciousness and drawing it into her own mind. _Please don't make me wait any longer._

_In that case..._

He took a deep breath before dropping his barriers and allowing her into his mind -- soon feeling a warmth and tenderness he had not known since his joining with Christine. _Never and always touching and touched. I, Spock, pledge my life and love to thee, T'Christa._

_As I, T'Christa, pledge my life and love to thee, Spock._

_Our minds, our hearts, are one... as our very lives shall be as one. I will cherish thee with every fiber of my being from this day forward -- as I will any children we may have._

_Just as I will always cherish thee and our children,_ her mind responded.

_Finally, it is my wish that the feelings we share remain as perpetual as the Vulcan sun for as long as we both shall live._

Once the link was broken, the pair shared another kiss and then held each other for a short time. Spock enjoyed having a warm, loving woman in his arms once again after so many months without one. He wished more than anything that he could have told T'Christa how wonderful their night together had been and how much he had come to love her.

_You already have, _she assured him through their bond. _And let me assure you that the feeling is very mutual. Now let us get to our stations before they come looking for us._

He escorted her to her station in Life Sciences after stopping at her quarters briefly  
to drop off her overnight bag. The couple surreptitiously crossed fingers before separating. Spock had to force himself not to smile when he reached the Bridge. The world was so beautiful today; he was so happy -- or as his friends would have said, simply totally and completely in love again. He hadn't felt like this since his marriage to Christine.

James Kirk's sandy-brown head lifted as the Vulcan's familiar shadow crossed the arm of his chair. "Good morning, Spock," the Captain said pleasantly. "Hey, you look more rested and relaxed than I think I've ever seen you. What happened?"

_Love,_ Spock couldn't help thinking, barely able to keep from saying it. As it was, he was unable to suppress a Christmas-morning smile, which Kirk's sharp eyes didn't miss.

"That smile can only mean one thing. You and T'Christa have gotten together." Kirk's voice was only loud enough for Spock to hear.

"Yes," the Vulcan shyly admitted, a tinge of green in his cheeks and at the points of his ears.

Kirk smiled. "About time, too. Have you bonded with her?"

Spock nodded.

"So when's the big day?"

"We... have not yet discussed it," was the quiet reply.

"What the hell. That doesn't matter right now, anyway. Now that you've gotten together, it's only a matter of time." Kirk briefly, affectionately, squeezed the hand which lay on the arm of his chair. "Congratulations, my friend. I wish you both every happiness."

"Thank you, Jim."

The Vulcan smiled for his friend alone, then excused himself to report to his Science station. Once there, he immersed himself in work, at the same time basking in the warmth of T'Christa's love. T'Christa, his bondmate and future second wife. He was sure that even Christine, in the Heaven where she surely was, would have approved of his choice. And to think that the happiness he now enjoyed was due to following his friends' advice... He would have to do so more often in the future, although he would never publicly admit or acknowledge that he had done so.

There were some who would feel that he was jumping into another marriage far too soon after Christine's death, but they could think what they liked. His private life was no one's business but his own. In addition, he and Jim had again talked privately, the two finally agreeing that when one had had a happy, fulfilling romantic relationship, it was only natural to want another -- particularly when they had become accustomed to it.

He had no idea how he could have spent so many years alone or ever treated Christine as he had. Of course, he had done all he could to make amends to her after they married. Even so, it was not enough. No amount of compensation would have been enough... but he could do no more for her now, except to see that T'Mara was raised as Christine wished.

Lastly, he was truly fortunate to not only have found true love once, but twice. Christine, his first love, who had given him a beautiful daughter. T'Christa, his last love, who had given him happiness he had not known since his time with Christine -- and who would surely give him more beautiful children. But they had to be married first... and as far as he was concerned, the sooner that happened, the better.

THE END…for now


End file.
